Journal articles on the topic 'Guitar music (Jazz)'

Details of developing jazz guitar reharmonization learning book using Malay Asli song will not discuss here, however, this article divulges pragmatism approach that can be transcending in explaining logic between learning jazz guitar reharmonization techniques using Malay Asli Song. Although music is a universal language, traditional music and western music educators do not come to an agreement diffusing learning western music elements such in traditional music or vice versa. As a result, reharmonization technique only become known on western music repertoires. While traditional music practitioners presenting the same old repertoires, with deep-rooted dogmatic excuses to maintain what they called traditional authentic values. To conduct this study, relevant data on pragmatism was done through document analysis. The result show pragmatism approach can help music educators to reconceptualize teaching and learning traditional music using jazz reharmonization technique to recreate and innovate a new sound and contextual of learning jazz harmony, not just using on jazz standards repertoires, in making music theory beneficial to both traditional and modern music educators and students.

This article proposes a pragmatism approach useful in explaining the logic of learning jazz guitar reharmonization techniques. Music and practices are both unseparated and unified in the field of music education. This poses challenges for traditional and western music consolidation because reharmonization technique is only known in western music repertoires while traditional music normally utilizes old-style repertoires. Some practitioners rooted in dogmatic thinking still maintain authenticity and traditions. In this study, our data is gathered using qualitative content analysis. We then identified similarity of pragmatism principles along with the interpretation of jazz reharmonization techniques. We suggest that pragmatism approach is a useful pathway for music educators to reconceptualize teaching and learning of traditional music using jazz reharmonization technique and then, recreate and innovate a new sound and context of learning jazz harmony rather than using jazz standards repertoires.

The influence of subculture is characteristic for academic works of the 20th century, including those written for a six-string guitar and compositions with a guitar part. Many authors have recognized the instrument as an attribute of mass culture since the Middle Ages. Democracy as a historical property of the guitar leaves its mark on academic music that addresses it. Having never been a part of orchestras before, guitar becomes a permanent and almost the main member of the jazz ensemble. The paper discusses the diversity of embodiment of the features of mass culture in academic Russian guitar works of the 20th century. Melodic and harmonic features of the proletarian song are introduced by composers of the Soviet period (Asafyev, Shebalin, Retchmensky, Kamaldinov) into guitar opuses. The author shows that the instrument is perceived by composers of the second half of the century as a phenomenon of mass culture, and therefore the introducing of guitar into the score entails the use of means from its arsenal — melodic-harmonic, rhythmic, textured, compositional. The specifics of the film industry express themselves in the introduction of a part of the soundtrack into the work, the use of montage techniques. The study revealed that the influence of pop music and jazz styles manifests itself in pieces for the guitar solo by composers of the second half of the 20th century, whose style is formed on the basis of performance (Vinitsky, Rudnev, Koshkin, Kozlov).

The capability of big data technology in online data management has made virtual learning a highly popular trend nowadays. However, vast information density makes young users lose focus in mastering one particular learning unit. This situation opens up opportunities for researchers to re-evaluate music instrument learning methods. This study aims to develop a framework for bite-sized learning of basic jazz guitar reharmonization techniques. The research methodology involves a mixed-methods design of Design and Development Research (DDR) and experimental case study. The three phases of the research include analysing the needs of jazz guitar reharmonization techniques, developing a bite-sized learning framework, and validating the conceptual framework. The results of this study will be useful for online learners of all ages who want to learn jazz guitar harmony without enrolling in formal institutions. The developed method could also potentially be commercialized as an online application for bite-sized learning and adopted as a part of heutagogy approaches.

This communication deals with the analysis of an improvisation by guitarist Nelson Faria in the song Incompatibilidade de Gênios by João Bosco and Aldir Blanc recorded on the album Nelson Faria & Frankfurt Radio Bigband – Live In Frankfurt. Before, we will present a brief historical context of the electric guitar problem in Brazil followed by a biographical synthesis of Nelson, later we will make the harmonic and melodic analysis, followed by an analysis using the theory of topics applied to popular music, seeking to identify aspects that point to a friction of musicalities present in Brazilian instrumental music or Brazilian jazz and contribute to the debate of musicology in the area. The present work is part of a larger research at master's level with incipient results.

The essence and the content of “performing tradition” and “cultural and educational dimension” have been explained in the article. The author examines the history of the emergence and development guitar art in Ukraine as a whole, and specifically performance traditions of the guitarists. Practical educational and performing experience of a lot of prominent guitarists of national cultural and educational dimension, their performing concepts, techniques and methods, has been described; the author gives a complete description of the evolution of guitar art in Ukraine.An objective study of the historical development of national musical culture in today's extremely topical issue in the context of scientific understanding, particularly by disclosing distinctive features of the national musical performance and in particular instrument. Currently growing interest in issues of history, theory and techniques of instrumental performance has been considered, and study of the evolution of performance traditions due to the diversity of the world's musical instruments has been conducted.The XX century has started a process of recognition of the guitar as a professional instrument and it has integrated into the system of specialized music education. As a result of significantly increased quality guitar performance is becoming more popular palette of guitar music; multidisciplinary academic chamber and instrumental direction began to be classical and jazz guitar techniques.Principles and methods of forming performance skills that have been elaborated by practice of Ukrainian and foreign guitarists can be used for further development of musical training and education of talented youth.

The purpose of this research is to identify the specificity of pop and jazz stylistics as one of the characteristic trends of modern accordion art, using the analysis of the composition „Hommage a Paco” by Frank Angelis. The methods of the proposed scientific article are based on the use of research approaches (genre, style, textual, analytical), which allow to identify the specific embodiment of trends in the current stage of the development of accordion art in the modern repertoire. Scientific novelty. Despite its widespread use in practice, Frank Angelis’s composing work has not been subject to scientific understanding; in particular, his work has not been analyzed in detail in contemporary Ukraine. Conclusions. As a result of the analysis of Frank Angelis’s „Hommage a Pacco”, it was founded that the specificity of the formation is coordinated by the principle of double-frequency (the first part has an expositional character, the second – jazz-improvisational); the individuality and expressiveness of the aesthetics of the theme are determined by the dances of the famous Spanish virtuoso guitarist Paco de Lucia (Allegres, Bulires and Tangos), which underlie the work. The specificity of the harmonic plan is mainly based on alternate septaccords and noncords, and the thematicism is modified by texturing. The dedication to the creator of the „new flamenco” style is reflected in a diverse palette of playing tools, most of which mimic the specificity of guitar techniques (so the specific accordion tremolo gives the music material an expressive, precise, more sonorous sound – the color of the flamenco, and creates an invoice-like texture). Also in the melodic line are reflected specific guitar techniques, including „long picado”, „rasgeado”, „alsapua”. A peculiar feature of the composer’s style is the use of jazz elements such as: „quasi-improvisation”, „mini-solo”. Combining music from different directions, F. Angelis created the unique composition, giving it the characteristic features of Spanish flamenco and jazz music.

The electric guitar came to its initial prominence in the 1940s when its volume allowed jazz guitarists like Charlie Christian to step out in front of the rhythm section like other soloists, competing with the brass, wind, and piano. Further changes in the playing and design of the instrument came with exploitation of the interaction of the electric guitar, tube amplifiers, and analog effects as a larger system. Especially in the rock and funk idioms, the playing and construction of the overall instrument evolved and expanded rapidly with the mainstream embrace of digital technology. This talk will consider the evolution of the electric guitar as a system up through today and consider why it seems the instrument has fully evolved and is unlikely to experience further seismic shifts, especially as the overall thrust of music has shifted to digitally-manipulated sound that is often entirely independent of the physical playing of any instrument.

Mechanical ventilation (MV) is a life-saving measure and supportive modality utilized to treat patients experiencing respiratory failure. Patients experience pain, discomfort, and anxiety as a result of being mechanically ventilated. Music listening is a nonpharmacological intervention used to manage these psychophysiological symptoms associated with mechanical ventilation. The purpose of this analysis is to examine music preferences of 107 MV patients enrolled in a randomized clinical trial that implemented a patient-directed music listening protocol to help manage the psychophysiological symptom of anxiety. 1 Music data presented heretofore includes the music genres and instrumentation patients identified as their preferred music. Genres preferred include: classical, jazz, rock, country, and oldies. Instrumentation preferred include: piano, voice, guitar, music with nature sounds, and orchestral music. The analysis of three patients’ preferred music received throughout the course of the study is illustrated to demonstrate the details and complexity involved in assessing MV patients, which substantiates the need for an ongoing assessment process.

The author examines the different reasons behind the emigration of musicians from the territory of today's Slovak Republic during various eras. The migration of Slovak people from the Austro-Hungarian Empire around the end of the 19th century was largely motivated by economic factors. Ideological doctrines that constrained free artistic thinking propelled another wave of emigration during the former socialist Czechoslovakia (1948–1989). After the birth of the Slovak Republic (1993), migratory movements continued especially with Czech and Slovak jazzmen trying to establish themselves on the global scene. The examples of departing artists (John Dopyera, the inventor of the resophonic Dobro guitar; Diana Krall, jazz pianist and singer; Andreas Varady, a jazz guitarist of Romani origin; and Celeste Buckingham, a singer with multicultural ancestry) contribute to the debate on migration’s cultural and artistic significance. The author discusses the instrumentalist approach to the issue of ethnicity for those globally successful artists who pragmatically stress the appropriate element of their ethnic background relevant to the circumstances. Additionally, the article gives attention to the primordialist aspects and emotional issues relating to the ethnicity of those Slovak musicians whose success abroad was only localized.

Di era postmodernisme saat ini, muncul berbagai ragam gaya dalam musik yang begitu masif. Kemunculan ragam gaya yang begitu masif ini membuat upaya pengkategorian musik menjadi semakin kompleks. David Cope mengistilahkan fenomena ini dengan istilah “decategorization”. Fenomena decategorization seringkali ditemukan dalam karya, yang, menurut David Cope disusun menggunakan beberapa pendekatan teknis kompositoris sebagai berikut: eclecticism, quotation, sectionalization, overlay, dan integration. Roland Dyens, komponis Perancis abad 21 adalah komponis yang sangat produktif dalam menghasilkan karya-karya untuk permainan gitar tunggal. Apa yang dia lakukan melalui karya-karyanya sejalan dengan tren umum pada musik abad 21 yang cenderung memasukkan berbagai idiom ke dalam karyanya untuk memunculkan unsur kebaruan. Berbagai ragam gaya yang dia gabungkan menjadi satu dalam karyanya menjadikan karyanya memiliki banyak wajah yang cenderung sulit untuk dikategorikan ke dalam salah satu gaya. Walaupun karya yang ia tulis adalah untuk instrument gitar klasik, namun warna jazz, etnis, folklore, hingga rock cukup terasa kuat dalam komposisinya. Hal inilah yang melatarbelakangi penulis untuk menelusuri lebih jauh gejala “decategorization” dalam karyanya yang berjudul “Trois Saudade” lewat parameter yang telah dijabarkan oleh David Cope.AbstractExploring the Symptoms of Trois Saudade's Decategorization from Roland Dyens. In the era of postmodernism today, a variety of styles in music are so massive. The emergence of a variety of styles that are so massive makes the effort to categorize music becomes more complex. David Cope termed this phenomenon with the term "decategorization". The decategorization phenomenon is often found in works which, according to David Cope, are prepared using the following compositional technical approaches: eclecticism, quotation, sectionalization, overlay, and integration. Roland Dyens, 21st century French composer is a composer who is very productive in producing works for solo guitar playing. What he does through his works is in line with general trends in 21st century music that tends to incorporate various idioms into his work to bring out an element of novelty. The variety of styles that he combined in his work makes his work have many faces that tend to be difficult to categorize into one style. Although the work he wrote was for classical guitar instruments, but the colors of jazz, ethnicity, folklore, even rock felt quite strong in its composition. This is the background of the writer to further explore the phenomenon of "decategorization" in his work entitled "Trois Saudade" through parameters that have been described by David Cope.Keywords: decategorization eclecticism; quotation sectionalization; integration; Roland Dyens; Trois Saudade

Shelagh Delaney's A Taste of Honey in the Theatre Workshop production of 1959 opened to the sound of a fast twelve-bar blues played on trumpet, saxophone, and guitar by musicians sitting in a box to the right of the stage. Though rarely mentioned by historians, the ‘Apex Jazz Trio’, as they were called, were a lively and unpredictable element in the production. Between the actors' open acknowledgement of the band, and Avis Bunnage's direct comments to the audience, the play shattered the ’realistic‘ conventions that still held sway in the West End, at the same time transgressing the distinction between ‘serious’ theatre and music hall (where the boundary of the proscenium was never respected obsequiously). Alec Patton, a PhD student at the University of Sheffield, draws on original interviews with actors from the cast, a member of the first-night audience, and the leader of the band that accompanied the show to offer a re-assessment of the role of music and music hall in the original production of A Taste of Honey.

The relevance of the article is to deepen the analytical aspect of knowledge about Chilean guitar music of the second half of the 20th — early 21st centuries in the context of the reconstruction of genre traditions on the example of works by Juan Antonio Sanchez, Gustavo Becerra-Schmidt, Javier Contreras.
 Main objective of the study is to identify the leading genre traditions of Chilean guitar music and reveal their modern reconstructions in the works of famous authors.
 The methodology includes methods of historical, cultural, comparative, phenomenological, as well as structural and functional analysis (for a contextual consideration of the creative activities of composers, the study of genre and stylistic elements of the Chilean traditions of folk music, professional-academic and non-academic origin in their influence on European genre models).
 Results and conclusions. The cultural and historical environment of the formation and development of the Chilean academic guitar repertoire of the second half of the 20th — early 21st centuries is characterized, the links with the performing achievements of domestic virtuosos are determined. The work of composers Juan Antonio Sanchez, Gustavo Becerra-Schmidt, Javier Contreras is considered in the discourse of modern processes of reconstruction of traditions, approbation of innovative methods and techniques of writing of the European avant-garde, use of the resources of American non-academic art. The national genre roots of thematic phenomena have been identified in the process of studying music scores and audio recordings of works, which go back to the primary authentic layers and influence musical vocabulary, creating the foundation of its national identity: Creole cueca, tonada with Iberian origins and hemiole rhythmic archetypes, in particular, in the Sonata for guitar by H. Sanchez; elements of the Araucanian ritual chants of the indigenous Mapuche population in the Fourth Sonata by G. Becerra-Schmidt, as well as the rhythmic formula of the Afro-Brazilian batukada in the finale of the Third Sonata by G. Becerra-Schmidt. It was found that secondary genre and style layers are formed in line with European concert genres: sonatas, concerts, cycles, the compositional and dramatic profile of which changes under the influence of the organic nature of the musical material, its transcultural ethnic ties. Jazz and fusion music-making with elements of the Chilean musical is defined as an equally important genre-style resource. The interferential nature of the inheritance of the authentic cueca tradition through its modern versions created by the legendary Violeta Parra leads to targeted citations, allusions in modern guitar works. Analytically substantiated are the conclusions that thanks to the numerous mosaic carnival contrasts, the abundance of colorful ethno-genre mixtures of Iberian, Indian, African American folklore, to which it is possible to connect the poetics of fusion or experimental percussion techniques of sound production, the originality of the modern Chilean reconstruction of ancient traditions is formed. Such syntheses are due to the internal cultural and historical situation and artistic processes that take place on both sides of the Atlantic.

In this article, the author examines the improvisatory style of jazz musician Herbert Lawrence "Sonny" Greenwich. While numerous extra-musical sources inform the guitarist's performances, the cubist paintings of Paul Klee are particularly meaningful. Through transcription, analysis and interview, the author demonstrates that fretboard "diagrams"—which Greenwich suggests originate from Klee—act in a threefold manner. First, they afford Greenwich a personal way of discussing his craft, second they offer a formulaic and perceptual strategy for traversing various harmonic terrains and third these diagrams act as a surrogate music theory for the self-taught musician, affording him a unique method of organizing the guitar.

This ethnography is an investigation of the notion of democracy as community-in-the-making. The researcher and nine band students came together to create music that was meaningful and self-reflective. The participants elected to split into two distinct ensembles. Group 1 chose not to compose on their primary band instruments, opting for electric guitar, bass, synthesized piano, and drums. Group 2 chose to create music using traditional concert band instruments. Choosing a genre and working with the traditions governing its creative processes seemed to be the largest determinant of a groups culture. The group members and researcher saw classical music as unproductive for group composing or community-making. Composing in a jazz or popular style was conceived of as fun, nonobligatory, self-directed, and personally meaningful. In such settings, there was an emphasis on interpersonal relationships, peer learning and peer critique, as well as an expectation that members will take care of each other.

What lies at the core of a musician's artistry when improvising? What makes it so captivating for those engaged in it? Such pleasing moments intricately blend emotions, personal resonance, and adaptability. In this text we will delve into specific aspects that offer insights into our deep connections with music. Drawing from expressive feelings, hand’s coupling and sonic richness, this work sketches electric jazz guitar improvisation as a paradigmatic example, demonstrating how feeling, hands-empathy and sound leveling collaboratively shape each one’s unique and individual tempo; resonating deeply within musicians. The text examines the interconnected experiences that continuously reshape our perspectives and transform our emotion into harmonious expressions echoing profoundly within; when it comes to music and our way of understanding and feeling it. Join to navigate such subtleties and uncover music's profound potential to rekindle the innate bond with our inner self.

Playing a musical instrument involves the repetitive use of muscles, often at their extreme range of motion. Consequently, musicians in general are at an increased risk for the development of pain syndromes related to nerve or musculoskeletal damage. Acoustic and electric guitars are among the most popular instruments in the world today, with a large population of musicians at risk of injury. This article examines the results of a survey completed by 261 professional, amateur, and student guitarists to determine the most common anatomic locations of playing-related pain and its relationship to possible etiologic factors. A survey of 15 questions was distributed to professional, amateur, and student guitarists who play the musical genres of rock/blues, jazz, and folk across the United States and Canada. The questions addressed type of guitar played, style of music performed, playing posture, picking technique, anatomic location of pain, history of formal training, presence of playing-related pain in the past 12 months, history of trauma to the affected area, and history of other nonrelated medical problems. Playing-related pain was reported by 160 (61.3%) of 261 guitarists who completed the survey. The most often reported location was the fretting hand, with 109 (41.8%) of 261 subjects reporting the presence of playing-related pain in the previous 12 months. The back and neck were the next most reported sites of playing-related pain, with 45 (17.2%) of 261 subjects reporting back pain and 39 (14.9%) of 261 subjects reporting neck pain in the previous 12 months. The results suggest that a substantial number of guitarists playing various styles of popular music are experiencing playing-related pain.

When individuals coordinate their behaviour, they need to both anticipate actions and respond to each other in meaningful ways. Jazz musicians often encounter situations in jam sessions in which they interact with previously unknown musicians, allowing insights into spontaneous collaboration. The current study investigated call and response patterns in free jazz improvisations by analysing movement and musical characteristics of duos. Twelve jazz musicians were paired into six duos of an e-guitar and a saxophone. Balanced across duos, one musician was asked to play a series of improvisations expressing the emotions happy, sad or neutral. The second musician responded to each improvisation without knowing the emotional intention of the first musician. Call and response roles were then exchanged. While musicians improvised or listened to their duo partner, they were both recorded with an optical motion capture system. Results indicate correspondences between call and response musicians in movement variability and cumulative distance of head motion. There were marked differences between happy and sad emotional expressions both in movement parameters and musical features including mean intensity, mode, and, albeit to a lesser extent, tempo. Retrospective verbal decoding of the call musicians’ emotional intentions was correct in 76.5% of all cases. Independently of explicit decoding success and even for the first encounters, musicians spontaneously tuned into each other’s performances by means of their body movements and the musical characteristics of the improvisations.

In a tiny inner city pubThe amps were getting stackedLeads were getting wound upIt was full of pissed Anzacs‘Got no more gigs for Tuesday nights’ said the barman to the star,‘We're putting pokies in the lounge and strippers in the bar’The star, he raised his fingers and said ‘fuck this fucking hole’But to his roadie said ‘it's the death of rock and roll’‘There ain't no single place left to play amplified guitarEvery place is servin' long blacks if they're not already tapas bars(TISM (This Is Serious Mum), ‘The Last Australian Guitar Hero’, 1998)Introduction: local music-makingA number of recent studies have focused upon the places and spaces of popular music performance. In particular, analyses of British live music contexts have examined the role of urban landscapes in facilitating production/consumption environments. Building upon Simon Frith's (1983) initial exploration of the synthesis of leisure/work ideologies and popular music, Ruth Finnegan's detailed examination of amateur music practices in Milton Keynes (1989) and Sara Cohen's account of the Liverpool scene (1991) reveal the benefits of engaging in detailed micro-studies of the local. Paul Chevigny's history of the governance of New York City jazz venues (1991) similarly provides a rich insight into performance contexts and the importance of hitherto unnoticed city ordinances in influencing the production of live music.

Thisarticle offers a comprehensive overview of the “saxophonejazzimprovisation” phenomenon. It was noted that in the contemporary jazz studies, the components of this notion are, as a rule, not combined but studied separately. This work is the first study that proposes to combine them based on the textureandsyntaxparameters. For that purpose, a number of perceptions already developed in academic music studies have been corrected in this work, including the perception of the instrument’s textural style (A. Zherzdev), specifics of its reflection in improvisation, syntax as a “system of anticipations” (D. Terentiev), which has its own specifics in saxophonejazzimprovisation. Being one of the style “emblems” of jazz, saxophone combines the specifics and universalism of its aggregate sound, which makes its sound image communicatively in-demand. It was emphasized that the methodology and methodic of the topic presented in this work need to be concretized on the example of saxophone jazz styles, which offers prospects for further studies of this topic. The theory of jazz improvisation inevitably includes the question of instrument (instruments, voices) used to make it. At this point, we need to tap into information about the instrumental-type style (style of any types of music according to V. Kholopova) available in jazz practice in both of its historical forms: traditional and contemporary. Saxophone becomes one of the key objects of this study, being an instrument of new type capable of conveying the entire range of jazz intoning shades represented in such origins of jazz as blues, ballad, religious chants, popular “classical music”, academic instruments. To generalize, it is worth noting that information about saxophonejazzimprovisation is concentrated in two areas of study: organological (jazz instruments and their use: solo, ensemble, orchestral) and personal (portraits of outstanding jazz saxophonists made, as a rule, in an overview and opinionbased style). The historical path of saxophone as one of the most in-demand instruments of jazz improvisation was quite tortuous and thorny. The conservative public considered this instrument “indecent” and believed that its use in jazz does not meet the requirements of high taste (A. Onegger). It was emphasized that specifics of jazz saxophone sound indeed lay in the instrumentalization of expressive vocal and declamatory intonations originating from blues with its melancholy and “esthetics of crying”. It is manifested especially vividly, and with even greater share of shock value than in jazz, in the use of saxophone in rock music, which exerted reverse influence over jazz that gave birth to it (V. Ivanov). The timbre-articulatory diversity found in saxophone is identified when taking its organological characteristics out of the dialectics of the pair of notions “specifics – universalism”, where the deepening of the former (specifics) means overcoming thereof towards the latter, universalism (E. Nazaikinskyi). As a result, we have a textural style of saxophone based on melodic nature of this instrument, its specific timbre enriched by the influence of other instrumental sounds, including trumpet, piano, and later, electric guitar. Among the existing definitions of texture in music, there are three key, determinant parameters of the approach to the study of texture style of saxophone in jazz. The first of them is spatial-configurative (E. Nazaikinskyi), the second is procedural-dynamic (G. Ignatchenko), and the third is performance-based (V. Moskalenko). On aggregate, the textural style of jazz saxophone is defined in this article as the synthesis of the instrument’s “voice” and the “voice” of the improviser saxophonist. The former defines the typical in this style, and the latter defines the individual, unique. The specifics of texture in jazz, including saxophone jazz, are special, because this improvisation art does not have the component of final “finishing” of musical fabric. The formulas existing in saxophone jazz texture are divided into three types: specific (typical for jazz itself), specifized (stemming from the folklore and “third” layers), and transduction-reduction (according to S. Davydov, borrowed from the academic layer). The syntactic composition of saxophone jazz improvisation correlates by the textural one, taking the shape of textural-structural components (a term by G. Ignatchenko) – units of the first scaled level of the perception of form, which are related to the one and the other. The mechanism of anticipation – a forestalling perception of the next segment of the process of improvisation, and the intuitionallogical orientation of an improviser saxophonist toward the number “7” have great significance (E. Barban). Like in academic practice, syntax in jazz improvisation is built on the basis of “stability” and “instability” semantics (D. Terentiev), forming a complex system of paradigms and syntagmas (the former are typical for traditional jazz, the latter for contemporary one). The rules of jazz improvisation semantize, because the most important thing for a jazz musician is the process, not the result. At this point, the aspect of temporal distance from the “cause” to the “effect” becomes especially distinguishable: the farther they are from each other the less predictable improvisation becomes, and vice versa. The process of improvisation is largely structured by choruses, which represent sections of a form related to variant reproduction of a theme (standard theme or author’s theme). In addition, improvisation (including saxophone improvisation) may contain elements of general forms of sound used as the bridges connecting sections inside choruses.

AbstractCharles Frederick (Freddie) Hedges (1886–1920), his brother Elven Everett Hedges (1889–1931), and Jesse Jacobson (1882–1959) converged as Hedges Brothers and Jacobson in 1910 in San Francisco. Elven played piano, saxophone, and guitar, and all three sang and danced. In 1910–11, critics in San Francisco, Chicago, New York, and smaller cities greeted the act as something new and exceptionally good. Instead of pursuing more general fame in North America, the trio accepted a music-hall contract in England, where they became leaders in creating a craze for American ragtime singing, a craze that prepared the English public for the momentous arrival of jazz after the First World War. The trio recorded eight released songs for Columbia in 1912–13. In 1913, they also performed in Paris and South Africa. In 1914, after eight months back in the United States, they returned to English success but soon dissolved the act and performed separately until 1919, when they reunited to accept an unprecedented contract (£30,000 for six years). Early in 1920, Freddie killed himself. Forest Tell (b. 1888) replaced him in the trio, and the new group recorded six released songs for Zonophone in 1920. The trio disbanded at the end of the contract. Elven retired shortly afterward, but Jesse stayed in show business at least through World War II.

IntroductionThe concern of this article is with a particular set of harmonic practices that rock musicians, particularly those who participate in the domain of guitar-oriented ‘alternative’ rock, have been using with noticeable frequency in the last ten years. I am also interested in discussing the concept of the power chord (a term I shall explicate more clearly below) as a device in rock that has facilitated the above-mentioned set of harmonic practicesThe observations made in this paper come out of a previous research inquiry of mine into the devices which alternative musicians use to differentiate their music from other styles of mainstream rock. Also, the pursuit of this topic is partly a response to Allan Moore's admonition that ‘there is as yet very little concern for theorizing analytical method in rock music’, and his call for a ‘mapping-out of those harmonic practices that serve to distinguish rock styles . . . from those of common-practice tonality . . . and jazz’ (Moore 1995, p. 185).There has been some rather pointed criticism recently of musicological analyses of popular music (see Shepherd 1993; Frith 1990) on the charge that analysing music's purely sonic dimensions (i.e. melody, harmony, rhythm, structure, etc.) does not really help us understand musical communication. Speaking as a songwriter, however, I would argue that many musicians in rock are indeed concerned with harmonic progression (or ‘the changes’, to use the vernacular term) as an important device or jumping-off point in the process of songwriting. It also seems reasonable to suggest that harmonic progression is a contributing factor in the affective power of a song, although its importance here is likely to be variable and quite open to debate.

Statement of the problem. The genre of the instrumental concerto is an important part of the famous American composer John Coolidge Adams’s oeuvre. This is evidenced by the popularity of his concertos among performers and the ongoing interest of researchers in them. However, the composer’s piano concertos, especially the Third Concerto titled “Must the Devil Have All the Good Tunes?”, remains largely unexplored, which prevents the elucidation of the principles of interpreting the genre. Objectives, methods, and novelty of the research. The purpose of the study is to reveal the specifics of the genre and stylistic interaction in J. Adams’s Third Piano Concerto, “Must the Devil Have All the Good Tunes?”. For the first time the genre, stylistic, structural and dramaturgical features of this composition become the subject of analysis. The methods of structural and functional, genre and stylistic , and comparative analysis are used in the study. Research results and conclusion. The analysis of J. Adams’s Third Piano Concerto, “Must the Devil Have All the Good Tunes?” indicates a combination of classical principles with features of minimalism and elements of jazz (ragtime, swing and other) and rock and roll. The classical principles are evident in the three-part structure of the cycle, the use of sonata form in the first movement and variation form in the second, and the orchestration that predominantly adheres to academic traditions. At the same time, there are the features of music poem genre, an openness of forms that appeal to the late-Romantic tradition, alongside with fragmentation inherited in contemporary compositional approaches. These aspects are counterbalanced by timbre dramaturgy, which embodies the idea of continuous development through the gradual addition of new instruments and registers, from the lowest to the highest. Minimalist features are evident in the repetitiveness, the significant role of ostinato rhythms, in the structure of the theme of the second movement, and the use of variation form with the addition of new episode. They also interact with baroque stylistics, as evidenced by the use of short trill-like motifs reminiscent of ornaments found in French harpsichord music. Jazz features are embodied on the genre basis of ragtime, funk, and swing as the extensive use of syncopated formulas, accents, polyrhythmic combination of parts, quasi-improvised elements and the walking bass in the piano part, as well as the ensemble techniques borrowed from jazz-bands. The inclusion in the orchestra the bass guitar and the piano sampler with “Honky Tonk” timbre refers to the rock music, to the ragtime tradition and the honky-tonk bars’ music-making. The programmatic aspect of the Concerto is realized through the stylistic interaction between the Classical embodying tradition, balance, and restraint, and the “diabolical” embodying fearlessness, freedom, and boldness associated in the Concerto with jazz, rock, and pop elements. Therefore, these aspects define the stylistic and dramaturgical uniqueness of J. Adams’s Third Piano Concerto, “Must the Devil Have All the Good Tunes?”.

The aim of this article is to explore a range of largely embodied vocalisations and sounds produced by learners of string instruments and how they relate to the potential self-regulatory use provided by such vocalisations. This type of “singing” while learning to play an instrument may have similarities to the use of private speech in other types of learning tasks. This report describes a multiple case study based on the naturalistic observation of learners playing string instruments in different situations. We observed private rehearsals by six adult guitarists from different music cultures (classical, flamenco and jazz) who had different approaches to learning (traditional and constructivist). In addition, we observed the one-to-one lessons of a constructivist cello teacher with a 7-year-old beginner and a 12-year-old student. All sessions were recorded. We applied the System for Analysing the Practice of Instrumental Lessons to the video lessons and/or practices and participant discourse for constant comparative analysis across all categories and participants. From the theoretical framework of private speech, we identified a set of qualities in private singing, such as whistling, humming, and guttural sounds, with different levels of audibility. Self-guidance and self-regulation appeared to be the functions underlying both psychomotor learning and reflective-emotional learning from an embodiment approach. Guitar learners from popular urban cultures seemed to use less explicit singing expression than classical guitar learners, the explicitness of which may be related to the instructional use of the notational system. In the one-to-one cello lessons, we observed a process of increasing internalisation from the younger to the older student. Both results are consistent with the literature on private speech, indicating that this process is a natural process of internalisation at higher literacy levels. Singing is not as frequent in music lessons as might be expected, and it is even less frequently used as a reflective tool or understood as an embodied process. The examples provided in this article shed light on the multiplicity of applications and on the potential benefits of private singing in instructional contexts as a powerful learning tool.

Кларнет – относительно молодой музыкальный духовой инструмент, который стал продолжателем исторического развития и начал активно использоваться в композиторском творчестве, а значит и в исполнительстве (создан этот музыкальный инструмент в середине XIX века). Для нашего исследования особенно интересным и значительным смысловым фактом является то, что использование этого колоритного по звучанию музыкального инструмента началось с ансамблевого исполнения, в группе духовых инструментов духового и оперного, а позже – симфонического оркестрах. Отечественная музыкально-исполнительская культура развивалась параллельно с мировыми жанрами, поэтому использование кларнета было естественным в ее исполнительской культуре, а с начала ХХ в. кларнет использовался в исполнении джазовой музыки, эстрадной и поп-музыки. В 20-е годы появляется промежуточный стиль между традиционным джазом и свингом, так называемый Чикагский стиль, в котором в оркестрах (этого музыкального направления) появляется (среди контрабаса, фортепиано, гитары) флейта. Выдающимся исполнителем стиля “free jass” (50-е – начало 60-х годов) был известный кларнетист Лео Райт, игра которого имела большое влияние на отечественных музыкантов. С целью реализации методики обучения игры на кларнете начинающих учеников было разработано компонентную структуру данного вида обучения, которое имело такие составляющие, а именно: познавательный ( что отражает потребность в коллективном исполнении музыкальных произведений и уровень овладения музыкально-историческими и музыкально-теоретическими знаниями), операционнотехнологический (овладение исполнительско-двигательными умениями и навыками, что отражает процесс "перекодировки звуковых образов в моторные", которые обеспечивают способность для создания условий для совместной ансамблевой деятельности; регулятивно-оценочный (отражает уровень сформированности способности к адекватной оценки результатов собственной деятельности ученика-кларнетиста, направленной на исполнение музыкальных произведений). The clarinet is a relatively young musical wind instrument, which became the successor of historical development and began to be actively used in composing, and therefore in performance (this musical instrument was created in the middle of the XIX century). For our research, a particularly interesting and significant semantic fact is that the use of this colorful-sounding musical instrument began with an ensemble performance, in a group of wind instruments of brass and opera, and later – symphony orchestras. The Russian musical and performing culture developed in parallel with the world genres, so the use of the clarinet was natural in its performing culture, and since the beginning of the twentieth century the clarinet has been used in the performance of jazz music, pop and pop music. In the 20s, an intermediate style appeared between traditional jazz and swing, the so-called Chicago style, in which the flute appears in orchestras (of this musical direction) (among the double bass, piano, guitar). An outstanding performer of the “free jass” style (the 50s - early 60s) was the famous clarinetist Leo Wright, whose playing had a great influence on Russian musicians. In order to implement the methodology of teaching clarinet playing to novice students, a component structure of this type of training was developed, which had such components, namely: cognitive (which reflects the need for collective performance of musical works and the level of mastery of musical-historical and musical-theoretical knowledge), operational-technological (mastery of performance-motor skills and skills, which reflects the process of "transcoding sound images into motor images", which provide the ability to create conditions for joint ensemble activity; regulatory and evaluative (reflects the level of formation of the ability to adequately assess the results of a clarinetist student's own activity aimed at performing musical works).

The paper presents a steganographic method of hiding textual information in an audio file. Hiding is implemented by a program in Python. The introduction of individual letters of the text into the sound is carried out by the method of «the least significant bit». The program can be used for both educational and practical purposes. The commonly used wave library was used to work with sound files. It is not a library specialized for cryptographic and steganographic needs. Its use and the conciseness of the program code makes it possible to visualize the mechanism of hiding information in the classroom and demonstrate in the process of creating a program its debugging and testing. It is also important for educational purposes that working within the library allows you to see the state of an empty and filled audio container at the level of individual bits. To assess the practical value of the program, it was tested with texts of different lengths and with sound containers of different grades. In particular, the sound of a tuning fork, the sound of a guitar string, classical music, rap, jazz, and an audiobook were used. The experiment showed the correct reproduction of texts. It was found that if you listen carefully to the «pure sound» of the tuning fork, when the container is overloaded with information, suspicions of a text bookmark may arise. A text bookmark in the sound, in which the volume, tempo and frequency change quickly, does not reveal the suspicion of a possible bookmark. However, if the party who intercepted the masked message has guesses about how to bookmark the text, then the text is easily removed. Therefore, the use of the program for practical purposes requires additional manipulations in the code, in particular related to the order of text input and the choice of location. Additional text encryption is also desirable. Analysis of sound and its manipulation at the level of individual bits also has educational value in the sense that it gives an idea of the noise level, the magnitude of the useful physical signal and the sensitivity of the human ear. Key words: Python language, steganography, hiding information, masking information in an audio file, educational example.

This article substantiates the legitimacy of using the notion of “instrument’s style” in music performance studies. It was noted that the global nature of the style aspect in the system of artistic work pre-envisages its application to the field of organology – the science of instruments as “tools” or “organs” of musical thinking – as well. It was emphasized that, being part of the man-made, “second” nature, instruments per se do not have a style but represent its determinants within the framework of the notional axiom “style is person” (according to Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon). The instrument’s style is represented by creative personalities who create and perform music. This article generalizes and systemizes information about musical style in its extension onto the level of varietal instrumental stylistics, where the main classification criterion is the ratio between universalism and specifics of performance-related sound image. The article offers an original notion of “varietal instrumental style” that provides basis for the study of particular varieties and representations (in this case, saxophone) of this phenomenon. It was noted that a new system of perceptions of musical interpretation arises within the framework of music performance studies, thus causing special interest in varietal specifics of an instrument as the most important component of interpretation performance process. Performance of music is thought of as a true creative act in which the figure of interpreter stands out, represented in several versions: performing as such, mixed (composing-performing or performing-composing), and improvising. It was emphasized that comprehensiveness of the “style” category allows to extend its applicability to all (without exception) means of expressive-constructive complex of music, which in a concrete composition are manifested at the stylistics level. Among the most important stylistic components of a piece of music are instruments which do not have a style themselves but represent its determinants objectively existing in the practice of public music playing of various eras and periods, countries and regions. Complex properties of instruments are studied within the framework of a relatively new field of music studies called “organology”. According to an organological approach, instruments appear in their wholesome quality that includes timbre-acoustic and image-semantic values and characteristics, enabling them to be considered at the level of varietal style – the style of any music varieties (according to Valentina Kholopova). It was noted that musical instruments are dual by their nature. On the one hand, they are artifacts of civilizational culture categorized as phenomena of the “second”, man-made nature. On the other hand, they require obligatory presence of a human being – a performer-interpreter in whose work they get “humanized” (according to Boris Asafyev) and attain the qualities of style. Such an interpretation of the “instrument’s style” category can be found more and more often in music study works devoted to particular varietal instrumental styles: piano, guitar, violin and other. This article notes that the notion of “instrument’s style” correlates not only with the generalized perception of musical style with its branching into hierarchical levels but also with stylistics of a musical composition perceived as the set of the means of implementing a genre-style idea in the text of a musical image: composing (notational) and performing (acoustic). As a result, we have the notion of instrument stylistics existing within the wholesome system “instrument = musical composition” (according to Boris Asafyev). It was emphasized that instruments, like the style in general, are “material”, i.e. they are perceived sensibly, acting as objects of reality embodying intentions of author’s and performer’s artistic design. It was proved that in varietal instrumental stylistics, the most important aspect is the belonging of an instrument to a particular family and its correlation with instruments of other families. As for the saxophone style, its distinctive features from this viewpoint will include: a) characteristic particularities of sound image reflected via timbre and semantics (“timbre labels” according to Alexander Veprik), b) interim position within the system of aerophones – brass and wooden wind instruments. It was emphasized that parameters of the stylistic structure of a musical composition always correlate with its texture measured vertically, horizontally and depth-wise. The textural “configuration” always includes an instrument as the carrier of its intrinsic stylistics: historical, genre-specific, national, “personal”. Therefore, when reviewing a varietal instrumental style, including the saxophone style highlighted in this article, one has to use the following criteria: a) organological, b) varietal, c) genre-stylistic. On that basis, the article offers an original definition of the saxophone style as a performance- and composing-related phenomenon aggregately reflecting timbre-acoustic and image-semantic properties of an instrument, distinguishable for: a) interim position between wooden and brass aerophones, b) peculiarity of sound image tending toward universalism, i.e. toward assimilation of properties of a whole number of other musical instruments, and of not only wind but also other groups. The article’s concluding remarks note that saxophone stylistics manifest themselves the most fully in jazz, where this instrument is represented in the entire diversity of its artistic and technical capacities at the level of improvisation art that revives, at the new “orbit” of historical-style spiral, the centuries-old practice of musical instrumentalism.

This paper presents the practitioners’ perspective on mixing popular music in spatial audio, particularly Dolby Atmos and the binaural mixes generated by the Dolby and Apple renderers. It presents the results of a dual-stage study, which utilized focus groups with eight professional music producers and a questionnaire completed by 140 practitioners. Analysis revealed the continued influence of stereo approaches on mix engineers, partly due to its historical dominance as a production platform and consumers’ continued use of headphones. It was also found that core elements of popular music productions, such as snare drums, tom-tom drums, kick drums, bass guitars, main guitars, and vocals, were less likely to have binaural processing applied compared with other sources. It was also shown there were perceived differences in the suitability of spatial audio mixing for specific genres, with electronic dance music, jazz, pop, classical, and world music rated as the most suitable. Regarding the binaural renderers, there was less user satisfaction with the Apple device compared with Dolby’s, and this dissatisfaction manifested mainly in the need for more user control. Finally, mix engineers were very aware of the importance of their mixes translating to smaller speaker systems and headphone playback, in particular.

This Popular Music in Education (PME) special issue includes contributions discussing developments in several countries, including Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Singapore and the United States. It covers a range of approaches, exploring technology, hermeneutics, theory, guitars, jazz, songwriting, DIY/DIWO, politics and music industry perspectives. As music institutions have increasingly opened their doors to popular music, this has inevitably led to a greater level of interest in how you teach and learn popular music. PME is presenting a louder presence within Popular Music Studies (PMS), as the ground prepared by PMS has made space for a wave of new PME courses and students to sweep through educational contexts. In the wake of such expansion, this special issue intends to promote a further understanding of pedagogical best practice. The development of PME is something that is long overdue, and that seems likely to greatly expand and enrich the frame of PMS.

Scat singing is the designation of vocal improvisation techniques in jazz music. This form of vocal improvisation was first popularized by Louis Armstrong in 1962. Scat singing is often learned by imitating improvised musical instruments into vocals, such as saxophones, trumpets, guitars, or pianos. Popjazz vocal students of the ISI Yogyakarta Music Presentation study program began to be introduced and learned scat singing from semester 2 to semester 6. Only a few students successfully apply this vocal improvisation technique when singing in performances and jam sessions. The author as a lecturer of popjazz vocal practice in the Music Presentation Study Program has observed the difficulties experienced by the majority of students. Several stages of learning have been applied in the learning process, for example by understanding scales and chord patterns, developing the main melody in songs, enriching vocal dialects, to multiplying musical references. This stage of learning was not significantly successful in helping students master scat singing. This study aims to formulate a learning method of vocal improvisation techniques for scat singing. The data collection process is carried out by observing the learning process during lectures, interviews with students, and regular singing practice. Inductive qualitative data analysis, which is an analysis based on the data obtained then developed a certain relationship pattern or hypothesis. The research was conducted by qualitative methods, with the final result being a descriptive sentence formulation of steps to master the vocal improvisation technique of scat singing. This conclusion is expected to be an overview for lecturers in order to determine the right approach to help students master scat singing and dare to apply it in songs.

Problem statement. Among Kharkiv composers, one of the significant places is occupied by Igor Kovach (1924–2003), a representative of the Kharkiv School of composers and Ukrainian musical culture of the 20th century. His works include music and stage, orchestra, concert, song, choral and literary-musical compositions, music for theatre performances, music for films and TV films. The creative legacy of Igor Kostyantynovych Kovach has a close connection with the children’s audience; it includes both instrumental music for young performers and theatrical music, where children from performers become listener, among them the fairy-tale ballets “The Northern Tale” and “Bambi”. The children’s music by I. K. Kovach did not receive proper consideration except for short newspaper essays and magazine notes, M. Bevz’s (2007) article devoted to children’s piano music. Thus, the problem of holistic study of children’s stage music by Igor Kovach still remains open. Objectives. The present article is devoted to the identification of musicalthematic, timbre-texture, genre-stylistic features, with the help of which the multifaceted figurative world of the ballet “Bambi” is embodied. The aim and the tasks of this research – to reveal the specifics of the figurative world of the fairytale ballet “Bambi” and to identify the musical means by which it is embodied. The role of the orchestra is established, the means of thematic characteristics of the characters are traced, and the peculiarities of the musical language stipulated by the requirements of the chosen genre are noted. Methodology. To achieve the aim we have used special scientific methods: genre, stylistic, intonation-dramaturgical and compositional ones. The presentation of the main material. The music for the fairy-tale ballet “Bambi” belongs to two authors: Igor Kovach and his son Yuri. The new features inherent in the sound palette are manifested in the instrumentation, where along with the usual composition of a modern symphony orchestra there are saxophones, rhythm- and bass-guitars, drums, which due to their timbres bring a sharp taste of emotional and behavioural looseness. Introducing the qualities of non-academic tradition into the academic orchestra, the authors, on the one hand, use them according to their origin, on the other – turn them into an organic part of the symphonic score. By making a “concession” to pop music, simplifying harmonious language, freeing it from the extreme manifestations of expanded tonality, bringing it closer, on the one hand, to classical-romantic, on the other – to jazz, Igor Kovach showed his inherent sense of modernity, “address quality” of creativity. Conclusions. Thus, the fabulous multifaceted world of “Bambi” is revealed in the ballet owing to the bright thinking and language of the composer. The action of the ballet takes place against the background of bright genre sketches, which are as if immersed in the very density of life. This impression arises due to the dynamics of rhythms, colourful orchestration, and a variety of styles, addressed to the sound world of today. Generalized intonations of academic art organically coexist with the turns of song quality of different origins, dance quality, march quality, jazz improvisations, which was facilitated by the co-authorship with Yuri Kovach.

‘Rise to birth with me now, my brother …’William Sweeney's most extended work to date is also his best-known, thanks to its having been broadcast three times. Most recently, and appropriately, his 70-minute setting of Hugh MacDiarmid's epic A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle was heard on Radio 3 on Hogmanay. What better moment than the gateway of the New Year for Sweeney's musical gallimaufry, which in its rich diversity and mixture of song and speech, not to mention musical styles, is a faithful tribute to the poem it sets? In a sense, Sweeney's setting repays a very old debt. For it was the voice of Hugh MacDiarmid, lecturing in East London in 1974, that ‘put things together’ in the mind of a 24-year-old ex-avantgarde composer-clarinettist not quite sure what direction he wanted to follow. MacDiarmid's London lecture suddenly brought back to Sweeney an essential but hitherto unrecognized element in his own psyche: the revived folksong-movement of his leftwing Glaswegian childhood, spear-headed by the late Norman Buchan M.P. At Knightswood Secondary School, Sweeney had become fascinated first by contemporary jazz – Davis, Coltrane, Evans – and then Stockhausen (‘via Schoenberg’), and his principal study had been clarinet, continued at the RSAMD, and – from 1970 – at the RAM in London with the redoubtable Alan Hacker. Yet as a child, Sweeney had particularly loved the unaccompanied singing of Archie Fisher's sister Rae, and significantly, he ‘always felt disappointed when the guitars came in and spoiled it’.

The study of traditional music, such as Malay Asli songs, has garnered significant attention from musicians and music scholars. However, prior research on Malay Asli songs has been limited in scope, with little exploration of contemporary approaches to their composition. This article aims to contribute to the discourse by exploring the hybridisation of Malay Asli songs with chord melody style composition for jazz guitar, while retaining the essential elements of the original music. The article begins by providing an overview of the standard composition of Malay Asli songs. We then demonstrate our approach by utilising the lead sheet format of two popular Malay Asli repertoire, Damak and Patah Hati. Finally, we discuss how the concept of jazz guitar reharmonisation was employed to create a new variation of Malay Asli song composition. This study offers insights for music educators and practitioners interested in exploring new approaches to traditional music composition.

Musicians with physical disabilities who achieved stardom are part of the lore of popular music. Guitarist Django Reinhardt contrived alternate fingering patterns necessitated by burn contractures of his left hand. Les Paul, a legend in the development of the solid body electric guitar and multitrack recording, mangled his right arm in a car wreck so severely that his elbow was set permanently at 90° so he could continue to play guitar. Michel Petrucciani suffered from osteogenesis imperfecta, a condition that stunted his growth to the point where he used a special attachment to reach the sustaining pedals of his piano. Their stories show the force of human genius in music.

For children, musical education is considered as an essential need since it supports psychomotor development and provides children with an environment, where they can freely express themselves. Classical guitar is a polyphonic instrument that is widely used in musical education and, as with other instruments, it necessitates a certain level of learning discipline. The objective of the present study is to examine the « Je deviens guitariste Vol.1 » guitar method developed by Thierry Tisserand, being a composer and guitarist and affected by jazz, bossa nova, and other music genres, for children, who have no solfeggio knowledge and are having the first guitar education from scratch, and to reveal on which aspects of early-age guitar education this method has effects. The present research is a descriptive study providing a situation assessment and is based on general survey model. This qualitative study uses various document and content analysis methods. The data were obtained by analyzing this method’s contributions to the educational process and by reviewing the literature. Based on the findings obtained as a result of this research, how contributions that this method could offer for resolving the possible problems that might be observed in early-age guitar education are discussed and suggestions are provided for educator and method. Keywords: Music, music education, classical guitar, guitar education

Hard rock emerged in the late 1960s as a sub-genre of rock music, heavily influenced by blues and psychedelic rock, and became a significant part of the American music history with the rise of bands such as Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, and Van Halen in the 1970s. Jimi Hendrix was one of the most influential guitarists of the 20th century and a pioneer in the hard rock music genre. Born in Seattle in 1942, Hendrix began playing guitar at a young age and quickly developed a unique style that combined blues, rock, and jazz influences. In the mid-1960s, he moved to London and formed the Jimi Hendrix Experience, which quickly gained a following for their explosive live performances and Hendrix's virtuosic guitar playing. His innovative use of distortion, feedback, and wah-wah pedals revolutionized the sound of rock guitar and influenced countless musicians in the decades to come. Hendrix's music was also known for its experimental and psychedelic elements, which reflected the countercultural spirit of the era.

Theoretical basis This study aims to use a variant from the family of discrete choice models, i.e. the logit model, to analyse the relationship between the Y dependent and X explanatory variables. This model addresses the linear probability model's main drawback by constraining the probabilities of the Y outcome between 0 and 1. The logit model also offers an extra advantage, in that it can provide odd ratio estimations. Research methodology This is a compact case written specifically to teach statistics, econometrics and research method. It has an accompanying data set for the case-users to do hands-on statistical analyses. The data set has been collected from a questionnaire survey from the students enrolled in Attitune, i.e. the music school that the case protagonist founded. Case overview/synopsis The case revolves around a relatively new music school, Attitune Music, established in July 2017 in the heart of the capital city of a northern state in Malaysia. Michael Lee Wei-Pin was the founder of Attitune Music Sdn. Bhd. He was also one of the four music instructors of Attitune Music. His speciality instruments were the guitar and the piano. The case opens with the case protagonist, Michael, pondering over Attitune’s performance in terms of its music students’ enrolment. Attitune faced a major challenge – its student enrolment had remained more or less constant since its establishment. Low and/or constant number of students could ultimately translate into stagnant or even worse, shrinking revenues for Attitune. To attract more students, Michael had been toying with the idea of injecting new elements into Attitune’s music lessons, something different from what other music schools were offering and that could be unique selling points for Attitune. With this in mind, Michael surveyed Attitune’s students to gather information that could help him gauge the potential and feasibility of his idea. Complexity academic level This case is well positioned to be perhaps the pioneer Malaysian teaching case to be written to teach courses in statistics, econometrics and research methods. The case can be easily adapted to teach at either the introductory or at an advanced level.

The purpose of the article is to study the current stage of development of Ukrainian academic guitar art in the context of popularising the national repertoire of representatives of different regional schools and its active involvement in the professional training of performers. The article describes the characteristics of the leading development trends from the point of view of the synthesis of compositional, performing, and pedagogical planes. At the same time, the question arises of the importance of mastering the already existing national repertoire for the guitar, given its characteristic stylistic and genre abilities. The research methodology is based on an integrated approach that combines the methods of cultural, musicological, genre-stylistic, and performance analysis. The research terminology includes names and concepts used in musicology, as well as specific terms inherent in guitar performance and pedagogy. The scientific novelty lies in the attempt to characterise in a holistic way the newest national guitar repertoire created in the late twentieth and early twenty-first decades of the twenty-first century, based on the author's personal practical experience. Conclusions. The article describes the characteristics of the leading trends in the development of guitar art in terms of the synthesis of compositional, performing and pedagogical planes. The characteristic stylistic and genre features of the modern guitar repertoire are presented. The prospects for the development of guitar art, which lie in close interaction with non-academic music (jazz, folklore), are named.
 Key words: guitar art, academic performance, composing, guitar schools, national guitar repertoire.

Bones are one of the oldest materials used to create musical instruments. Currently, the world’s oldest known instruments are flutes made out of bones (Turk, Turk, and Otte 11). In fact, bones have been used to create or enhance musical instruments in a variety of settings throughout history and in modern day instrument making. Bone bull roarers, jaw bone percussion, clappers, trumpets, drum shells, lyres, or construction parts, such as frets, plectrums, pipes and pipe fittings, embouchure adjustments, or percussive strikes are just a few of the more common uses of bones in musical instrument construction. One man even made a guitar out of the skeleton of his dead uncle to memorialise the person who influenced his musical tastes and career (Bienstock). Bones can therefore be taken as a somewhat common material for making musical instruments. All of these instruments share a common trait, and not just the obvious one that they are all made out of or incorporate bones. None of these instruments are intended to represent something monstrous. Instead, they represent the ephemeral nature of humanity (Cupchik 33), a celebration of lineage or religious beliefs (Davis), or simply are the materials available or suitable to create a sound-making device (Regan). It is not possible to know the full intentions of a maker, in many cases, but a link to monstrosity and a representation of the ‘horrific’ or ‘freakish’ seems missing for the most. There are instruments, however, that do house this sentiment and some that utilise bones in the construction with the purpose of making this connection between the remains and something beast-like. In this article, I argue that the Bone Guitar Thing (BGT) built and played by raxil4 is one of those instruments. Introducing the 'Thing' Raxil4 is the stage name of sonic artist Andrew Page. He has been playing his Bone Guitar Thing for almost twenty years in a variety of settings (Page, email interview, 25 June 2021). The instrument has undergone slight changes during that time, but primarily it has retained its specific visual, timbral, and underlying associative features. The BGT is complex, more so than it may seem at first. By investigating the materials used, the performance techniques employed, and raxil4’s intentions as a musician, instrument maker, and community member within his circles of activity, the monstrous nature of the BGT comes to light. The resultant series of entanglements exhibits and supports a definition of what is a 'monster' that, like several definitions in monster theory discourse (Levina and Bui 6; Cohen 7; Mittman 51), includes challenging that which may be seen as ‘normal’ and thereby may nurture levels of unease or fear. However, in the case of the BGT, that which is monstrous is simultaneously being taken as something positive alongside its beast-like characteristics, and rather than evolving into something that needs to be repressed or eliminated, the ’monster’ here becomes a hero or champion, colleague, or even a friend. The Bone Guitar Thing is not really a guitar. It is a zither with a piece of driftwood for a base, (currently) five strings, and an electric pick-up (see Fig. 1). The bridge for the instrument is two bones, and the pitch and timbre of the strings is sometimes changed with bones used for Cage-like preparation (Cage 7-8; Bunger). Bones are also used to play the instrument, sometimes like a plectrum, others like a hammered dulcimer, or occasionally, simply pounding the string or the soundboard with great force to make a combination of percussive and string sounds. Glissandos are created by using the plectrum bones as a slide, and Page also uses jaw bones to introduce ratchet sounds, string scraping, and precise pitch bending (with the sharper edged part of the bones) (raxil4, “Livestream”). The instrument is electric, so the bones are enhanced with guitar pedals (typically reverb, distortion, and octave-splitter; Page, email interview, 25 June 2021), but the tonal qualities retain a semblance of the bone usage. Fig. 1: raxil4's Bone Guitar Thing. Photograph: Andrew Page. Page often uses the BGT as part of his sonic arsenal to perform dark ambient music, noisescapes, improv music, or live film soundtracks both in live concerts and recording situations. He plays solo as much as with ensembles, and more often improvises his music or parts, but occasionally works with predetermined organisation or scores of some description (although he admits to typically abandoning predetermined passages or scores during live performances; Page, email interview, 14 July 2021). Currently in London, raxil4 presents concerts in a variety of settings, typically well-suited for his brand of sonic art, such as Ryan Jordan’s long-running concert series Noise=Noise (raxil4 feat. King Sara), experimental music shows at the Barbican (raxil4 + King Sara + P23), and dark ambient showcases promoted and arranged by one of his record labels, Sombre Soniks (Wright). Sounds beyond Words: Monstrous Music One series of performances in which raxil4 used the BGT took the form of an immersive theatre show produced by Dread Falls Theatre called Father Dagon, based on the works of horror author H. P. Lovecraft. The performance incorporated a breaking of the ’fourth wall’ in which the audience wanders freely through the performance space, with actor- and sometimes audience-interactive musical performances of partially improvised, partially composed passages by musicians located throughout the set. Director and writer Victoria Snaith considered the use of live, semi-mobile, experimental music dispersed through the audience (mixed with an overall backing soundtrack) as heightening the intensity of the experience by introducing unfamiliar aspects to the setting. She discusses having made this decision based on Lovecraft’s own approach to story-telling that highlights a sense of unfamiliarity and therefore sense of “fear of the unknown”. The usefulness of creating unfamiliarity in this context can serve to support the parts of the narrative that contains supernatural and monstrous aspects. Given that the elements of the supernatural and horrible monsters in Lovecraftian tales are primarily indescribable (both because Lovecraft would recount beasts and fantastic magical happenings in his works as being such, and because in a practical theatrical situation, these things would be impossible to describe, especially without text or specific props or costumes, which the show purposefully uses sparingly, also as a conscious choice to embrace the unknown). Sounds created on instruments that are unique, or generated through unusual performance techniques would lend themselves to being more difficult to describe, and therefore fitting to support a desire to present something regarded as also difficult to describe, that being supernatural happenings or horrific creatures. (Connor 77) Page’s use of the BGT in these performances added directly to this notion both sonically and visually. The homemade nature of his instrument increased the potential that audience members would be less familiar with the source of his sounds, even if they were watching him perform, and the resultant soundscape he provided introduced harsh timbres, undulating pads, and aggressive punctuation of movement. Page sees the BGT as an instrument “reclaimed from the watery depths” (matching the theme of the show’s narrative), therefore as one fitting into the Lovecraft show “quite nicely” (Page, email interview, 25 June 2021). He likens the sounds created by the BGT as presenting “otherworldly melodies” akin to those played by Erich Zann (a character in another Lovecraft story who conjures a gateway to an alternate dimension full of indescribable creatures and nightmares via performing unusual music on his viola de gamba), which Page also sees as fitting (ibid.). His instrument in this setting as a producer and provider of unfamiliarity is supportive of constructing and maintaining a definition of “monstrous” or “terrifying” (Levina and Bui 6). Fig. 2: raxil4 performing in Dread Falls Theatre's Father Dagon, London 2012. Photograph: Pierre Ketteridge. Finding Community in the 'Freakish' Raxil4 also notes that the Bone Guitar Thing is appropriate for creative input within improv music circles (Page, email interview, 25 June 2021). Generally speaking, contemporary improv music (meaning the broad genre) is improvised performance focussing on sonic exploration over melodic, harmonic, or rhythmic content (even though all will be present in most cases; Toop 132-137). In my experience working with improv musicians since 1981, I find that these performers typically attempt to create sounds that are unusual or unexpected. Players often embrace extended techniques, repurposing non-musical items to be sound-making devices, and employ self-built instruments. Improv musicians seek to break free from the constraints of what may be seen as Western standard musical practices (ibid.), but they simultaneously strive to uphold some parallel aspects of artisanship and virtuosity, perhaps as a means to validate their departure from Classical/mainstream music norms. The instruments and approaches can be seen as factors that separate the experimental artists from the conservatory-based performers, yet still affords them the clout of being hard-working, innovative, expressive, and professional. As the name implies, improv music emphasises improvisation. André Hodier (23-36) in his classic book The Worlds of Jazz likens improvising jazz musicians to an alien race who battle each other on a daily basis (via jazz battles) in order to see who resides at the top of the improvisation chain. Improv musicians (some of whom come from a jazz background) tend to engage in this sort of hierarchical status ranking system using a much more ’polite’ and co-supportive mentality (at least in the scenes in which I have been privileged to participate). Improv musicians can occasionally embrace a friendly attitude that one should surpass the experimental nature of other performers, and may do so by presenting a new sound, technique, or instrument. The BGT can serve this function. It can stand out among other improv musicians’ gear, even if a majority of the instruments are self-built, through its use of bones and its intentional evocation of something horrific. Improvised music is sometimes looked down upon by musical communities who value conservatory training, popular music, or more traditional Western classical approaches to music. Referring to avant-garde jazz in the 60s and 70s, Valerie Wilmer (6) recounts that critics and Classical music enthusiasts perceived experimental and improv music as “‘freakish’ and only worthy of passing interest”. The dynamic is different today, but the overall attitude remains, at least in part. The improv music scene is creatively valid, but in comparison to conservative or more mainstream music, incorporates more experimental practices, therefore sometimes musical form, interactions, and preparation is less obvious to audience members outside the experimental music circles. The Bone Guitar Thing also plays into this construction. It is artistically valid, yet perhaps simultaneously challenging to the less-experienced listener. The BGT in this setting is multifunctional. Page (email interview, 25 June 2021) sees the BGT as a means to cut through or rise above other improv musicians, partly by being more recognisable as a “freakish” instrument at performances where the music is already considered freakish by some outsiders. Additionally, the fact that Page has taken the time to make this instrument, and uses notably practiced techniques to create the sounds he introduces, may position him as an innovative professional, rather than a non-trained imposter. The BGT can (at least for raxil4, but for others as well) become a monster among monsters that allows Page to validate his brand of creativity (Ibid). Musical ’freakishness’ appears in other settings as well. An example of this is a performance in which raxil4 took part where an ensemble provided experimental music for a live tattooing event (raxil4, “Listening”). Here, the congruency with being monstrous or freakish is perhaps more overt. Similar to the soundscape being performed, Fenske (6) points out that tattoos may still be seen as unfit or unexpected for certain classes, genders, or education levels, and may even still be associated with illustrated circus performers of the past. Furthermore, Kinzey (32) suggests that avant-garde and counter-culture communities (such as ones where tattooing and live music converge in a single event) often value uniqueness that serves to “erase boundaries between everyday life and art”. The combined performativity of live music and tattoo inking (both the artistic activity and the art itself) associates raxil4 and the BGT with this non-mainstream circle (to some degree), potentially conjuring an identity of something freakish or monstrous to people with different values. Engaging with Expressive Objects The conception and evolution of the Bone Guitar Thing has its roots in personal experience, art experimentation, and material culture related to Page’s life and the musical communities in which he played and plays. In the past, Page endeavored to make small sculptures to be given as Christmas and birthday gifts from materials he found on the shore of the River Thames, many including bones. Page then began to create new musical instruments with what he had available. Page’s brother is a doctor specialising in gunshot wounds and knife trauma, and his apartment was filled with remnants of his brother’s occupation, including a number of crutches. From these, Page crafted his first instruments in this period: crutch harps that utilised the leftover medical devices to build stringed sound generators. He claims the instruments at first were not overly successful, so he began to experiment with his bone sculptures to create more serviceable instruments. An early attempt was a percussion instrument made from various found bones, which Page deemed the “Xylobone” (see Fig. 4). This instrument and advanced crutch harps (6-string tenor (see Fig. 3.) and 2-string bass) became his first arsenal of sound makers, but Page felt the instruments ultimately failed to meet expectations and opted to rethink his approaches and designs. Fig. 3: One of Page's 6-stringed crutch harps. Photograph: Andrew Page. Fig. 4: The Xylobone - raxil4's bone xylophone percussion instrument. Photograph: Andrew Page. The BGT was intended to be more “playable”, “expressive”, and audible to battle louder co-performers. As mentioned, the driftwood base and bones for the instrument originated from the River Thames. The electronics come from a destroyed guitar that was the result of performing in a previous project in which Page was the singer, where the guitarist “had a habit of smashing his guitars on stage, in a sort of expensive tribute to [grunge guitarist] Kurt Cobain" (Page, email interview, 25 June 2021). The BGT started off as a 6-string zither that used guitar-gauge steel strings, but according to Page, given the harsh performance technique of beating or scraping the strings with bones, he was encouraged to switch to using wound, bass-gauge strings, affording him a lower pitch and greater resistance to energetic performance practices. One tuning peg, however, snapped off quite early in its life (as it was in a thinner, more weathered part of the driftwood), leaving the instrument one string shorter. Page says he likes to think that the instrument decided itself that it would be a “5-stringed beast” (ibid.). Conclusion The Bone Guitar Thing is, in fact, beast-like, at least in the settings, sonic attributes, and mindsets of the player and the communities in which the instrument is played, but it may not be the case that this beast-like nature is equal to being monstrous. Cohen (3-25) in his discussion of seven potential monster theories outlines several different notions of what can be considered “monstrous” and relates the monster in each theoretical situation to those fearing the monstrous construct. Most closely related to the situation in which the BGT is observed is a parallel theory based on the concept of “Us versus Them”, meaning “Us” as those who are dealing with the monster in question, and “Them” as being those on the side of the monster or the monster itself (Cohen 19-20). However, with the BGT, the monster is not unanimous with “them”, but rather with “us”. In all the situations outlined here, the instrument takes on the role of a beast, but not a negative role for Page (email interview, 14 July 2021) or fans of raxil4 (Wright). Instead, the beast is more like part of the team of noise makers actively engaged in the community’s activities of creation, entertainment, identity, and validation of values upheld thereof. Each of the performance settings can be argued to exhibit a sense of welcoming outsiders or praising diversity, rather than ostracising it. The Lovecraft performance and story were constructed on the premise of questioning what is a monster and who determines that definition. The Bone Guitar Thing supports and interacts precisely within this parameter to enhance the artistic commentary presented. Within the improv music setting, the instrument assists Page to achieve uniqueness among that which is already unique and highlights the values of community including a show of innovation, exploration, and personal performance technique development. For the live tattooing, the instrument stands out as a unifying sonic flag, connecting other (perhaps less-monstrous) artists into a stronger group of alternative creatives. Effectively, the BGT is a 'freak among freaks', serving to simultaneously fit in and rise above, all while maintaining a sense of “us” within respective circles. The beast-like nature is not entirely an outward force. Page (email interviews, 25 June 2021 and 14 July 2021) is aware that he has received no formal education in music. He admits he is less familiar with music theory, and more familiar with the science and technology behind the music. Page considers himself to be experimental in his approach to sound creation, which he sees as being more unique due to ignoring the “rulebooks” (ibid.). As a result, he feels (at least a slight) pressure of feeling “unprofessional” or “correct” in the eyes of Western conservatory-trained musicians and composers or those with a similar mentality (Page, email interview, 25 June 2021). The BGT was also, to a degree, built to battle being told what was “right”. For Page, his instrument is akin to a beast that helped him break free of the constraints of Western tonal and virtuosic constraints. “I made my own [instrument] so that nobody could tell me I was playing it the wrong way” (ibid.). His “beast” helped him break down barriers and asserted himself as an innovative musician and creative professional. So, then, the Bone Guitar Thing is a monster; sonically, visually, and physically. It represents a monster, it is called “the beast”, and it takes on the role of a terrifying creature raging through (sometimes, extremely quietly – raxil4; raxil 4 feat. King Sara; raxil4 + King Sara + P23) soundscapes, settings, and performances, rallying the like-minded and routing the unsuspecting or “others”. That is an overdramatic take on the situation, perhaps, but the instrument does uphold a series of values and creative aesthetics that fosters positive relationships between the artist, the community, and the sonic and physical qualities of the zither. Rather than being a device that places a horrific barrier to be overcome in an “us versus them” scenario, the monster takes on an alternate role and becomes a source of empowerment for “outsiders” or marginalised groups or people (Mittman 51). Thus the Bone Guitar Thing allows Page to demolish barriers and amalgamate fellow community members into a larger version of “us” to create a space in which the beast is no longer a monster. References Bienstock, Richard. “Man Builds Guitar Out of His Dead Uncle’s Skeleton.” Guitar World 11 Feb. 2021. Web. 13 June 2021 <https://www.guitarworld.com/news/man-builds-guitar-out-of-his-dead-uncles-skeleton-uses-it-to-play-black-metal>. Bunger, Richard. The Well-Prepared Piano. Colorado Springs: Colorado College Music P, 1973. Cage, John. Empty Words: Writings ’73-’78. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University P, 1981. Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. “Monster Culture (Seven Theses).” Monster Theory: Reading Culture. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1996. 3–25. Connor, Will. “Performing the Sounds of Darkness: An Exploratory Discussion of Musical Instruments and the Gothic Aesthetic.” The Dark Arts Journal: Reimaging the Gothic 2.I2 (Autumn 2016). 26 June 2021 <https://thedarkartsjournal.files.wordpress.com/2017/04/the-dark-arts-journal-2-21.pdf>. Cupchik, Jeffrey. “Buddhism as Performing Art: Visualizing Music in the Tibetan Sacred Ritual Music Liturgies.” Yale Journal of Music & Religion 1.1 (2015): 31–62. Davis, Josh. “Some Bronze Age Britons Turned the Bones of Dead Relatives into Musical Instruments.” Natural History Museum. 1 Sep. 2020. 23 June 2021 <https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/news/2020/september/bronze-age-britons-turned-the-bones-of-dead-relatives-into-musical-instruments.html>. Fenske, Mindy. Tattoos in American Visual Culture. New York: Palgrave, 2007. Hodier, André. The Worlds of Jazz. New York: Grove P, 1972. Kinzey, Jake. The Sacred and the Profane: An Investigation of Hipsters. Winchester, U.K.: Zero Books, 2012. Levina, Marina, and Diem-My T. Bui. “Introduction: Toward a Comprehensive Monster Theory in the 21st Century.” Monster Culture in the 21st Century: A Reader. Eds. Marina Levina and Diem-My T. Bui. New Delhi: Bloomsbury. 1–14. Mittman, Asa Simon. “Introduction: The Impact of Monsters and Monster Studies.” The Ashgate Research Companion to Monsters and the Monstrous. Eds. Asa Simon Mittman and Peter J. Dendle. London and New York: Routledge, 2013. 44–60. Raxil4. Listening Circuits: 19/06/21 with Live Tattooing from Catmouse. 21 June 2021. 23 June 2021 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZgUC5TTOxk&list=LL&index=3>. ———. raxil4 – Livestream for Iklecktik: 21/06/20. 22 June 2020. 23 June 2021 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zW-Mw2jRDQ&list=LL&index=6>. Raxil4 feat: King Sara. raxil4 feat: King Sara – Sawbones 13 – Live @ Noise=Noise (14/01/13). 26 Jan. 2013. 23 June 2021 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxFMA77yQ_A&list=LL&index=5>. raxil4 + King Sara + P23. raxil4 + King Sara + P23 – Barbican: 15/08/13. 11 Sep. 2018. 23 June 2021 <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N619ooZxx-0&list=LL&index=4>. Page, Andrew. Email interview. 25 June 2021. ———. Email interview. 14 July 2021. Regan, Marty. Video interview. 13 July 2021. Snaith, Victoria. Personal interview. 17 April 2016. Toop, David. Ocean of Sound. London: Serpent’s Tail, 2001. Turk, Matija, Ivan Turk, and Marcel Otte. “The Neanderthal Musical Instrument from Divje Babe I Cave (Slovenia): A Critical Review of the Discussion.” Applied Sciences 10-1226.2 (2020): 1–11. Wilmer, Valerie. As Serious as Your Life. London: Serpent’s Tail, 2018. Wright, Kevin. Email interview. 29 June 2021.

The awareness of the last 20 years about embodied cognition is directing multidisciplinary attention to the musical domain and impacting psychological research approaches from the 4E (embodied, embedded, enactive, and extended) cognition. Based on previous research regarding musical teaching and learning conceptions of 30 young guitar apprentices of advanced level in three learning cultures: Western classical, jazz, and flamenco of oral tradition, two participants of flamenco with polarised profiles of learning (reproductive and transformative) were selected as instrumental cases for a prospective ex post facto design. Discourse and practice of the two flamenco guitarists were analysed in-depth to describe bodily issues and verbal discourse on the learning practice in their natural contexts. Qualitative analysis is performed on the posture, gestures, verbal discourse, and musical practice of the participants through the System for the Analysis of Music Teaching and Learning Practices (SAPIL). The results are organised attending: (a) the Embodied mind through differential postures and gestures of flamenco participants that showed a fusion among verbal, body language, and musical discourse with respect to the musical literacy cultures; (b) the Embedded mind and a detailed description of circumstances and relationships of the two flamenco participants, and how music is embedded in their way of life, family and social context, and therefore transcends musical activity itself; (c) the Enactive mind, regarding the active processes that make differences between the reproductive and the transformative flamenco apprentices, then tentative relationship are observed in the discourse of each apprentice and the way in which they practice; finally, (d) the Extended mind through the bodily, technical and symbolic tools they use during learning. Flamenco culture of oral tradition made use of listening, and temporary external representations instead of notational, but also the body played a central role in a holistic rhythm processing through multimodality, such as singing, playing, and dancing. Conclusions point out the embodied mind as a result of the culture of learning reflected through the body and the gesture in instrumental learning.

'He did what the cipher could not, he rescued himself.' -- Alfred Bester, The Stars My Destination (23) On many levels, the new Nine Inch Nails album The Fragile is a gritty meditation about different types of End: the eternal relationship cycle of 'fragility, tension, ordeal, fragmentation' (adapted, with apologies to Wilhelm Reich); fin-de-siècle anxiety; post-millennium foreboding; a spectre of the alien discontinuity that heralds an on-rushing future vastly different from the one envisaged by Enlightenment Project architects. In retrospect, it's easy for this perspective to be dismissed as jargon-filled cyber-crit hyperbole. Cyber-crit has always been at its best too when it invents pre-histories and finds hidden connections between different phenomena (like the work of Greil Marcus and early Mark Dery), and not when it is closer to Chinese Water Torture, name-checking the canon's icons (the 'Deleuze/Guattari' tag-team), texts and key terms. "The organization of sound is interpreted historically, politically, socially ... . It subdues music's ambition, reins it in, restores it to its proper place, reconciles it to its naturally belated fate", comments imagineer Kodwo Eshun (4) on how cyber-crit destroys albums and the innocence of the listening experience. This is how official histories are constructed a priori and freeze-dried according to personal tastes and prior memes: sometimes the most interesting experiments are Darwinian dead-ends that fail to make the canon, or don't register on the radar. Anyone approaching The Fragile must also contend with the music industry's harsh realities. For every 10 000 Goth fans who moshed to the primal 'kill-fuck-dance' rhythms of the hit single "Closer" (heeding its siren-call to fulfil basic physiological needs and build niche-space), maybe 20 noted that the same riff returned with a darker edge in the title track to The Downward Spiral, undermining the glorification of Indulgent hedonism. "The problem with such alternative audiences," notes Disinformation Creative Director Richard Metzger, "is that they are trying to be different -- just like everyone else." According to author Don Webb, "some mature Chaos and Black Magicians reject their earlier Nine Inch Nails-inspired Goth beginnings and are extremely critical towards new adopters because they are uncomfortable with the subculture's growing popularity, which threatens to taint their meticulously constructed 'mysterious' worlds. But by doing so, they are also rejecting their symbolic imprinting and some powerful Keys to unlocking their personal history." It is also difficult to separate Nine Inch Nails from the commercialisation and colossal money-making machine that inevitably ensued on the MTV tour circuit: do we blame Michael Trent Reznor because most of his audience are unlikely to be familiar with 'first-wave' industrial bands including Cabaret Voltaire and the experiments of Genesis P. Orridge in Throbbing Gristle? Do we accuse Reznor of being a plagiarist just because he wears some of his influences -- Dr. Dre, Daft Punk, Atari Teenage Riot, Pink Floyd's The Wall (1979), Tom Waits's Bone Machine (1992), David Bowie's Low (1977) -- on his sleeve? And do we accept no-brain rock critic album reviews who quote lines like 'All the pieces didn't fit/Though I really didn't give a shit' ("Where Is Everybody?") or 'And when I suck you off/Not a drop will go to waste' ("Starfuckers Inc") as representative of his true personality? Reznor evidently has his own thoughts on this subject, but we should let the music speak for itself. The album's epic production and technical complexity turned into a post-modern studio Vision Quest, assisted by producer Alan Moulder, eleventh-hour saviour Bob Ezrin (brought in by Reznor to 'block-out' conceptual and sonic continuity), and a group of assault-technicians. The fruit of these collaborations is an album where Reznor is playing with our organism's time-binding sense, modulating strange emotions through deeply embedded tonal angularities. During his five-year absence, Trent Reznor fought diverse forms of repetitious trauma, from endogenous depression caused by endless touring to the death of his beloved grandmother (who raised him throughout childhood). An end signals a new beginning, a spiral is an open-ended and ever-shifting structure, and so Reznor sought to re-discover the Elder Gods within, a shamanic approach to renewal and secular salvation utilised most effectively by music PR luminary and scientist Howard Bloom. Concerned with healing the human animal through Ordeals that hard-wire the physiological baselines of Love, Hate and Fear, Reznor also focusses on what happens when 'meaning-making' collapses and hope for the future cannot easily be found. He accurately captures the confusion that such dissolution of meaning and decline of social institutions brings to the world -- Francis Fukuyama calls this bifurcation 'The Great Disruption'. For a generation who experienced their late childhood and early adolescence in Reagan's America, Reznor and his influences (Marilyn Manson and Filter) capture the Dark Side of recent history, unleashed at Altamont and mutating into the Apocalyptic style of American politics (evident in the 'Star Wars'/SDI fascination). The personal 'psychotic core' that was crystallised by the collapse of the nuclear family unit and supportive social institutions has returned to haunt us with dystopian fantasies that are played out across Internet streaming media and visceral MTV film-clips. That such cathartic releases are useful -- and even necessary (to those whose lives have been formed by socio-economic 'life conditions') is a point that escapes critics like Roger Scruton, some Christian Evangelists and the New Right. The 'escapist' quality of early 1980s 'Rapture' and 'Cosmocide' (Hal Lindsey) prophecies has yielded strange fruit for the Children of Ezekiel, whom Reznor and Marilyn Manson are unofficial spokes-persons for. From a macro perspective, Reznor's post-human evolutionary nexus lies, like J.G. Ballard's tales, in a mythical near-future built upon past memory-shards. It is the kind of worldview that fuses organic and morphogenetic structures with industrial machines run amok, thus The Fragile is an artefact that captures the subjective contents of the different mind produced by different times. Sonic events are in-synch but out of phase. Samples subtly trigger and then scramble kinaesthetic-visceral and kinaesthetic-tactile memories, suggestive of dissociated affective states or body memories that are incapable of being retrieved (van der Kolk 294). Perhaps this is why after a Century of Identity Confusion some fans find it impossible to listen to a 102-minute album in one sitting. No wonder then that the double album is divided into 'left' and 'right' discs (a reference to split-brain research?). The real-time track-by-track interpretation below is necessarily subjective, and is intended to serve as a provisional listener's guide to the aural ur-text of 1999. The Fragile is full of encrypted tones and garbled frequencies that capture a world where the future is always bleeding into a non-recoverable past. Turbulent wave-forms fight for the listener's attention with prolonged static lulls. This does not make for comfortable or even 'nice' listening. The music's mind is a snapshot, a critical indicator, of the deep structures brewing within the Weltanschauung that could erupt at any moment. "Somewhat Damaged" opens the album's 'Left' disc with an oscillating acoustic strum that anchor's the listener's attention. Offset by pulsing beats and mallet percussion, Reznor builds up sound layers that contrast with lyrical epitaphs like 'Everything that swore it wouldn't change is different now'. Icarus iconography is invoked, but perhaps a more fitting mythopoeic symbol of the journey that lies ahead would be Nietzsche's pursuit of his Ariadne through the labyrinth of life, during which the hero is steadily consumed by his numbing psychosis. Reznor fittingly comments: 'Didn't quite/Fell Apart/Where were you?' If we consider that Reznor has been repeating the same cycle with different variations throughout all of his music to date, retro-fitting each new album into a seamless tapestry, then this track signals that he has begun to finally climb out of self-imposed exile in the Underworld. "The Day the World Went Away" has a tremendously eerie opening, with plucked mandolin effects entering at 0:40. The main slashing guitar riff was interpreted by some critics as Reznor's attempt to parody himself. For some reason, the eerie backdrop and fragmented acoustic guitar strums recalls to my mind civil defence nuclear war films. Reznor, like William S. Burroughs, has some powerful obsessions. The track builds up in intensity, with a 'Chorus of the Damned' singing 'na na nah' over apocalyptic end-times imagery. At 4:22 the track ends with an echo that loops and repeats. "The Frail" signals a shift to mournful introspectiveness with piano: a soundtrack to faded 8 mm films and dying memories. The piano builds up slowly with background echo, holds and segues into ... "The Wretched", beginning with a savage downbeat that recalls earlier material from Pretty Hate Machine. 'The Far Aways/Forget It' intones Reznor -- it's becoming clear that despite some claims to the contrary, there is redemption in this album, but it is one borne out of a relentless move forward, a strive-drive. 'You're finally free/You could be' suggest Reznor studied Existentialism during his psychotherapy visits. This song contains perhaps the ultimate post-relationship line: 'It didn't turn out the way you wanted it to, did it?' It's over, just not the way you wanted; you can always leave the partner you're with, but the ones you have already left will always stain your memories. The lines 'Back at the beginning/Sinking/Spinning' recall the claustrophobic trapped world and 'eternal Now' dislocation of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder victims. At 3:44 a plucked cello riff, filtered, segues into a sludge buzz-saw guitar solo. At 5:18 the cello riff loops and repeats. "We're in This Together Now" uses static as percussion, highlighting the influence of electricity flows instead of traditional rock instrument configurations. At 0:34 vocals enter, at 1:15 Reznor wails 'I'm impossible', showing he is the heir to Roger Waters's self-reflective rock-star angst. 'Until the very end of me, until the very end of you' reverts the traditional marriage vow, whilst 'You're the Queen and I'm the King' quotes David Bowie's "Heroes". Unlike earlier tracks like "Reptile", this track is far more positive about relationships, which have previously resembled toxic-dyads. Reznor signals a delta surge (breaking through barriers at any cost), despite a time-line morphing between present-past-future. At 5:30 synths and piano signal a shift, at 5:49 the outgoing piano riff begins. The film-clip is filled with redemptive water imagery. The soundtrack gradually gets more murky and at 7:05 a subterranean note signals closure. "The Fragile" is even more hopeful and life-affirming (some may even interpret it as devotional), but this love -- representative of the End-Times, alludes to the 'Glamour of Evil' (Nico) in the line 'Fragile/She doesn't see her beauty'. The fusion of synths and atonal guitars beginning at 2:13 summons forth film-clip imagery -- mazes, pageants, bald eagles, found sounds, cloaked figures, ruined statues, enveloping darkness. "Just like You Imagined" opens with Soundscapes worthy of Robert Fripp, doubled by piano and guitar at 0:39. Drums and muffled voices enter at 0:54 -- are we seeing a pattern to Reznor's writing here? Sonic debris guitar enters at 1:08, bringing forth intensities from white noise. This track is full of subtle joys like the 1:23-1:36 solo by David Bowie pianist Mike Garson and guitarist Adrian Belew's outgoing guitar solo at 2:43, shifting back to the underlying soundscapes at 3:07. The sounds are always on the dissipative edge of chaos. "Just like You Imagined" opens with Soundscapes worthy of Robert Fripp, doubled by piano and guitar at 0:39. Drums and muffled voices enter at 0:54 -- are we seeing a pattern to Reznor's writing here? Sonic debris guitar enters at 1:08, bringing forth intensities from white noise. This track is full of subtle joys like the 1:23-1:36 solo by David Bowie pianist Mike Garson and guitarist Adrian Belew's outgoing guitar solo at 2:43, shifting back to the underlying soundscapes at 3:07. The sounds are always on the dissipative edge of chaos. "Pilgrimage" utilises a persistent ostinato and beat, with a driving guitar overlay at 0:18. This is perhaps the most familiar track, using Reznor motifs like the doubling of the riff with acoustic guitars between 1:12-1:20, march cries, and pitch-shift effects on a 3:18 drumbeat/cymbal. Or at least I could claim it was familiar, if it were not that legendary hip-hop producer and 'edge-of-panic' tactilist Dr. Dre helped assemble the final track mix. "No, You Don't" has been interpreted as an attack on Marilyn Manson and Hole's Courntey Love, particularly the 0:47 line 'Got to keep it all on the outside/Because everything is dead on the inside' and the 2:33 final verse 'Just so you know, I did not believe you could sink so low'. The song's structure is familiar: a basic beat at 0:16, guitars building from 0:31 to sneering vocals, a 2:03 counter-riff that merges at 2:19 with vocals and ascending to the final verse and 3:26 final distortion... "La Mer" is the first major surprise, a beautiful and sweeping fusion of piano, keyboard and cello, reminiscent of Symbolist composer Debussy. At 1:07 Denise Milfort whispers, setting the stage for sometime Ministry drummer Bill Reiflin's jazz drumming at 1:22, and a funky 1:32 guitar/bass line. The pulsing synth guitar at 2:04 serves as anchoring percussion for a cinematic electronica mindscape, filtered through new layers of sonic chiaroscuro at 2:51. 3:06 phase shifting, 3:22 layer doubling, 3:37 outgoing solo, 3:50-3:54 more swirling vocal fragments, seguing into a fading cello quartet as shadows creep. David Carson's moody film-clip captures the end more ominously, depicting the beauty of drowning. This track contains the line 'Nothing can stop me now', which appears to be Reznor's personal mantra. This track rivals 'Hurt' and 'A Warm Place' from The Downward Spiral and 'Something I Can Never Have' from Pretty Hate Machine as perhaps the most emotionally revealing and delicate material that Reznor has written. "The Great Below" ends the first disc with more multi-layered textures fusing nostalgia and reverie: a twelve-second cello riff is counter-pointed by a plucked overlay, which builds to a 0:43 washed pulse effect, transformed by six second pulses between 1:04-1:19 and a further effects layer at 1:24. E-bow effects underscore lyrics like 'Currents have their say' (2:33) and 'Washes me away' (2:44), which a 3:33 sitar riff answers. These complexities are further transmuted by seemingly random events -- a 4:06 doubling of the sitar riff which 'glitches' and a 4:32 backbeat echo that drifts for four bars. While Reznor's lyrics suggest that he is unable to control subjective time-states (like The Joker in the Batman: Dark Knight series of Kali-yuga comic-books), the track constructions show that the Key to his hold over the listener is very carefully constructed songs whose spaces resemble Pythagorean mathematical formulas. Misdirecting the audience is the secret of many magicians. "The Way Out Is Through" opens the 'Right' disc with an industrial riff that builds at 0:19 to click-track and rhythm, the equivalent of a weaving spiral. Whispering 'All I've undergone/I will keep on' at 1:24, Reznor is backed at 1:38 by synths and drums coalescing into guitars, which take shape at 1:46 and turn into a torrential electrical current. The models are clearly natural morphogenetic structures. The track twists through inner storms and torments from 2:42 to 2:48, mirrored by vocal shards at 2:59 and soundscapes at 3:45, before piano fades in and out at 4:12. The title references peri-natal theories of development (particularly those of Stanislav Grof), which is the source of much of the album's imagery. "Into the Void" is not the Black Sabbath song of the same name, but a catchy track that uses the same unfolding formula (opening static, cello at 0:18, guitars at 0:31, drums and backbeat at 1:02, trademark industrial vocals and synth at 1:02, verse at 1:23), and would not appear out of place in a Survival Research Laboratories exhibition. At 3:42 Reznor plays with the edge of synth soundscapes, merging vocals at 4:02 and ending the track nicely at 4:44 alone. "Where Is Everybody?" emulates earlier structures, but relies from 2:01 on whirring effects and organic rhythms, including a flurry of eight beat pulses between 2:40-2:46 and a 3:33 spiralling guitar solo. The 4:26 guitar solo is pure Adrian Belew, and is suddenly ended by spluttering static and white noise at 5:13. "The Mark Has Been Made" signals another downshift into introspectiveness with 0:32 ghostly synth shimmers, echoed by cello at 1:04 which is the doubled at 1:55 by guitar. At 2:08 industrial riffs suddenly build up, weaving between 3:28 distorted guitars and the return of the repressed original layer at 4:16. The surprise is a mystery 32 second soundscape at the end with Reznor crooning 'I'm getting closer, all the time' like a zombie devil Elvis. "Please" highlights spacious noise at 0:48, and signals a central album motif at 1:04 with the line 'Time starts slowing down/Sink until I drown'. The psychic mood of the album shifts with the discovery of Imagination as a liberating force against oppression. The synth sound again is remarkably organic for an industrial album. "Starfuckers Inc" is the now infamous sneering attack on rock-stardom, perhaps at Marilyn Manson (at 3:08 Reznor quotes Carly Simon's 'You're So Vain'). Jungle beats and pulsing synths open the track, which features the sound-sculpting talent of Pop Will Eat Itself member Clint Mansell. Beginning at 0:26, Reznor's vocals appear to have been sampled, looped and cut up (apologies to Brion Gysin and William S. Burroughs). The lines 'I have arrived and this time you should believe the hype/I listened to everyone now I know everyone was right' is a very savage and funny exposure of Manson's constant references to Friedrich Nietzsche's Herd-mentality: the Herd needs a bogey-man to whip it into submission, and Manson comes dangerous close to fulfilling this potential, thus becoming trapped by a 'Stacked Deck' paradox. The 4:08 lyric line 'Now I belong I'm one of the Chosen Ones/Now I belong I'm one of the Beautiful Ones' highlights the problem of being Elect and becoming intertwined with institutionalised group-think. The album version ditches the closing sample of Gene Simmons screaming "Thankyou and goodnight!" to an enraptured audience on the single from KISS Alive (1975), which was appropriately over-the-top (the alternate quiet version is worth hearing also). "The danger Marilyn Manson faces", notes Don Webb (current High Priest of the Temple of Set), "is that he may end up in twenty years time on the 'Tonight Show' safely singing our favourite songs like a Goth Frank Sinatra, and will have gradually lost his antinomian power. It's much harder to maintain the enigmatic aura of an Evil villain than it is to play the clown with society". Reznor's superior musicianship and sense of irony should keep him from falling into the same trap. "Complication" juggernauts in at 0:57 with screaming vocals and a barrage of white noise at 1:56. It's clear by now that Reznor has read his psychological operations (PSYOP) manuals pertaining to blasting the hell out of his audiences' psyche by any means necessary. Computer blip noise and black light flotation tank memories. Dislocating pauses and time-bends. The aural equivalent of Klein bottles. "Complication" juggernauts in at 0:57 with screaming vocals and a barrage of white noise at 1:56. It's clear by now that Reznor has read his psychological operations (PSYOP) manuals pertaining to blasting the hell out of his audiences' psyche by any means necessary. Computer blip noise and black light flotation tank memories. Dislocating pauses and time-bends. The aural equivalent of Klein bottles. "The Big Come Down" begins with a four-second synth/static intro that is smashed apart by a hard beat at 0:05 and kaleidoscope guitars at 0:16. Critics refer to the song's lyrics in an attempt to project a narcissistic Reznor personality, but don't comment on stylistic tweaks like the AM radio influenced backing vocals at 1:02 and 1:19, or the use of guitars as a percussion layer at 1:51. A further intriguing element is the return of the fly samples at 2:38, an effect heard on previous releases and a possible post-human sub-text. The alien mythos will eventually reign over the banal and empty human. At 3:07 the synths return with static, a further overlay adds more synths at 3:45 as the track spirals to its peak, before dissipating at 3:1 in a mesh of percussion and guitars. "Underneath It All" opens with a riff that signals we have reached the album's climatic turning point, with the recurring theme of fragmenting body-memories returning at 0:23 with the line 'All I can do/I can still feel you', and being echoed by pulsing static at 0:42 as electric percussion. A 'Messiah Complex' appears at 1:34 with the line 'Crucify/After all I've died/After all I've tried/You are still inside', or at least it appears to be that on the surface. This is the kind of line that typical rock critics will quote, but a careful re-reading suggests that Reznor is pointing to the painful nature of remanifesting. Our past shapes us more than we would like to admit particularly our first relationships. "Ripe (With Decay)" is the album's final statement, a complex weaving of passages over a repetitive mesh of guitars, pulsing echoes, back-beats, soundscapes, and a powerful Mike Garson piano solo (2:26). Earlier motifs including fly samples (3:00), mournful funeral violas (3:36) and slowing time effects (4:28) recur throughout the track. Having finally reached the psychotic core, Reznor is not content to let us rest, mixing funk bass riffs (4:46), vocal snatches (5:23) and oscillating guitars (5:39) that drag the listener forever onwards towards the edge of the abyss (5:58). The final sequence begins at 6:22, loses fidelity at 6:28, and ends abruptly at 6:35. At millennium's end there is a common-held perception that the world is in an irreversible state of decay, and that Culture is just a wafer-thin veneer over anarchy. Music like The Fragile suggests that we are still trying to assimilate into popular culture the 'war-on-Self' worldviews unleashed by the nineteenth-century 'Masters of Suspicion' (Charles Darwin, Sigmund Freud, Friedrich Nietzsche). This 'assimilation gap' is evident in industrial music, which in the late 1970s was struggling to capture the mood of the Industrial Revolution and Charles Dickens, so the genre is ripe for further exploration of the scarred psyche. What the self-appointed moral guardians of the Herd fail to appreciate is that as the imprint baseline rises (reflective of socio-political realities), the kind of imagery prevalent throughout The Fragile and in films like Strange Days (1995), The Matrix (1999) and eXistenZ (1999) is going to get even darker. The solution is not censorship or repression in the name of pleasing an all-saving surrogate god-figure. No, these things have to be faced and embraced somehow. Such a process can only occur if there is space within for the Sadeian aesthetic that Nine Inch Nails embodies, and not a denial of Dark Eros. "We need a second Renaissance", notes Don Webb, "a rejuvenation of Culture on a significant scale". In other words, a global culture-shift of quantum (aeon or epoch-changing) proportions. The tools required will probably not come just from the over-wordy criticism of Cyber-culture and Cultural Studies or the logical-negative feeding frenzy of most Music Journalism. They will come from a dynamic synthesis of disciplines striving toward a unity of knowledge -- what socio-biologist Edward O. Wilson has described as 'Consilience'. Liberating tools and ideas will be conveyed to a wider public audience unfamiliar with such principles through predominantly science fiction visual imagery and industrial/electronica music. The Fragile serves as an invaluable model for how such artefacts could transmit their dreams and propagate their messages. For the hyper-alert listener, it will be the first step on a new journey. But sadly for the majority, it will be just another hysterical industrial album promoted as selection of the month. References Bester, Alfred. The Stars My Destination. London: Millennium Books, 1999. Eshun, Kodwo. More Brilliant than the Sun: Adventures in Sonic Fiction. London: Quartet Books, 1998. Van der Kolk, Bessel A. "Trauma and Memory." Traumatic Stress: The Effects of Overwhelming Experience on Mind, Body, and Society. Eds. Bessel A. van der Kolk et al. New York: Guilford Press, 1996. Nine Inch Nails. Downward Spiral. Nothing/Interscope, 1994. ---. The Fragile. Nothing, 1999. ---. Pretty Hate Machine. TVT, 1989. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Alex Burns. "'This Machine Is Obsolete': A Listeners' Guide to Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.8 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9912/nine.php>. Chicago style: Alex Burns, "'This Machine Is Obsolete': A Listeners' Guide to Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 8 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9912/nine.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Alex Burns. (1999) 'This machine is obsolete': a listeners' guide to Nine Inch Nails' The fragile. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(8). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9912/nine.php> ([your date of access]).

augmentvb [ɔːgˈmɛnt]1. to make or become greater in number, amount, strength, etc.; increase2. Music: to increase (a major or perfect interval) by a semitone (Collins English Dictionary 107) Almost everything associated with Robert Johnson has been subject to some form of augmentation. His talent as a musician and songwriter has been embroidered by myth-making. Johnson’s few remaining artefacts—his photographic images, his grave site, other physical records of his existence—have attained the status of reliquary. Even the integrity of his forty-two surviving recordings is now challenged by audiophiles who posit they were musically and sonically augmented by speeding up—increasing the tempo and pitch. This article documents the promulgation of myth in the life and music of Robert Johnson. His disputed photographic images are cited as archetypal contested artefacts, augmented both by false claims and genuine new discoveries—some of which suggest Johnson’s cultural magnetism is so compelling that even items only tenuously connected to his work draw significant attention. Current challenges to the musical integrity of Johnson’s original recordings, that they were “augmented” in order to raise the tempo, are presented as exemplars of our on-going fascination with his life and work. Part literature review, part investigative history, it uses the phenomenon of augmentation as a prism to shed new light on this enigmatic figure. Johnson’s obscurity during his lifetime, and for twenty-three years after his demise in 1938, offered little indication of his future status as a musical legend: “As far as the evolution of black music goes, Robert Johnson was an extremely minor figure, and very little that happened in the decades following his death would have been affected if he had never played a note” (Wald, Escaping xv). Such anonymity allowed those who first wrote about his music to embrace and propagate the myths that grew around this troubled character and his apparently “supernatural” genius. Johnson’s first press notice, from a pseudonymous John Hammond writing in The New Masses in 1937, spoke of a mysterious character from “deepest Mississippi” who “makes Leadbelly sound like an accomplished poseur” (Prial 111). The following year Hammond eulogised the singer in profoundly romantic terms: “It still knocks me over when I think of how lucky it is that a talent like his ever found its way to phonograph records […] Johnson died last week at precisely the moment when Vocalion scouts finally reached him and told him that he was booked to appear at Carnegie Hall” (19). The visceral awe experienced by subsequent generations of Johnson aficionados seems inspired by the remarkable capacity of his recordings to transcend space and time, reaching far beyond their immediate intended audience. “Johnson’s music changed the way the world looked to me,” wrote Greil Marcus, “I could listen to nothing else for months.” The music’s impact originates, at least in part, from the ambiguity of its origins: “I have the feeling, at times, that the reason Johnson has remained so elusive is that no one has been willing to take him at his word” (27-8). Three decades later Bob Dylan expressed similar sentiments over seven detailed pages of Chronicles: From the first note the vibrations from the loudspeaker made my hair stand up … it felt like a ghost had come into the room, a fearsome apparition …When he sings about icicles hanging on a tree it gives me the chills, or about milk turning blue … it made me nauseous and I wondered how he did that … It’s hard to imagine sharecroppers or plantation field hands at hop joints, relating to songs like these. You have to wonder if Johnson was playing for an audience that only he could see, one off in the future. (282-4) Such ready invocation of the supernatural bears witness to the profundity and resilience of the “lost bluesman” as a romantic trope. Barry Lee Pearson and Bill McCulloch have produced a painstaking genealogy of such a-historical misrepresentation. Early contributors include Rudi Blesch, Samuel B Charters, Frank Driggs’ liner notes for Johnson’s King of the Delta Blues Singers collection, and critic Pete Welding’s prolific 1960s output. Even comparatively recent researchers who ostensibly sought to demystify the legend couldn’t help but embellish the narrative. “It is undeniable that Johnson was fascinated with and probably obsessed by supernatural imagery,” asserted Robert Palmer (127). For Peter Guralnick his best songs articulate “the debt that must be paid for art and the Faustian bargain that Johnson sees at its core” (43). Contemporary scholarship from Pearson and McCulloch, James Banninghof, Charles Ford, and Elijah Wald has scrutinised Johnson’s life and work on a more evidential basis. This process has been likened to assembling a complicated jigsaw where half the pieces are missing: The Mississippi Delta has been practically turned upside down in the search for records of Robert Johnson. So far only marriage application signatures, two photos, a death certificate, a disputed death note, a few scattered school documents and conflicting oral histories of the man exist. Nothing more. (Graves 47) Such material is scrappy and unreliable. Johnson’s marriage licenses and his school records suggest contradictory dates of birth (Freeland 49). His death certificate mistakes his age—we now know that Johnson inadvertently founded another rock myth, the “27 Club” which includes fellow guitarists Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix and Kurt Cobain (Wolkewitz et al., Segalstad and Hunter)—and incorrectly states he was single when he was twice widowed. A second contemporary research strand focuses on the mythmaking process itself. For Eric Rothenbuhler the appeal of Johnson’s recordings lies in his unique “for-the-record” aesthetic, that foreshadowed playing and song writing standards not widely realised until the 1960s. For Patricia Schroeder Johnson’s legend reveals far more about the story-tellers than it does the source—which over time has become “an empty center around which multiple interpretations, assorted viewpoints, and a variety of discourses swirl” (3). Some accounts of Johnson’s life seem entirely coloured by their authors’ cultural preconceptions. The most enduring myth, Johnson’s “crossroads” encounter with the Devil, is commonly redrawn according to the predilections of those telling the tale. That this story really belongs to bluesman Tommy Johnson has been known for over four decades (Evans 22), yet it was mistakenly attributed to Robert as recently as 1999 in French blues magazine Soul Bag (Pearson and McCulloch 92-3). Such errors are, thankfully, becoming less common. While the movie Crossroads (1986) brazenly appropriated Tommy’s story, the young walking bluesman in Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) faithfully proclaims his authentic identity: “Thanks for the lift, sir. My name's Tommy. Tommy Johnson […] I had to be at that crossroads last midnight. Sell my soul to the devil.” Nevertheless the “supernatural” constituent of Johnson’s legend remains an irresistible framing device. It inspired evocative footage in Peter Meyer’s Can’t You Hear the Wind Howl? The Life and Music of Robert Johnson (1998). Even the liner notes to the definitive Sony Music Robert Johnson: The Centennial Edition celebrate and reclaim his myth: nothing about this musician is more famous than the word-of-mouth accounts of him selling his soul to the devil at a midnight crossroads in exchange for his singular mastery of blues guitar. It has become fashionable to downplay or dismiss this account nowadays, but the most likely source of the tale is Johnson himself, and the best efforts of scholars to present this artist in ordinary, human terms have done little to cut through the mystique and mystery that surround him. Repackaged versions of Johnson’s recordings became available via Amazon.co.uk and Spotify when they fell out of copyright in the United Kingdom. Predictable titles such as Contracted to the Devil, Hellbound, Me and the Devil Blues, and Up Jumped the Devil along with their distinctive “crossroads” artwork continue to demonstrate the durability of this myth [1]. Ironically, Johnson’s recordings were made during an era when one-off exhibited artworks (such as his individual performances of music) first became reproducible products. Walter Benjamin famously described the impact of this development: that which withers in the age of mechanical reproduction is the aura of the work of art […] the technique of reproduction detaches the reproduced object from the domain of tradition. By making many reproductions it substitutes a plurality of copies for a unique existence. (7) Marybeth Hamilton drew on Benjamin in her exploration of white folklorists’ efforts to document authentic pre-modern blues culture. Such individuals sought to preserve the intensity of the uncorrupted and untutored black voice before its authenticity and uniqueness could be tarnished by widespread mechanical reproduction. Two artefacts central to Johnson’s myth, his photographs and his recorded output, will now be considered in that context. In 1973 researcher Stephen LaVere located two pictures in the possession of his half–sister Carrie Thompson. The first, a cheap “dime store” self portrait taken in the equivalent of a modern photo booth, shows Johnson around a year into his life as a walking bluesman. The second, taken in the Hooks Bros. studio in Beale Street, Memphis, portrays a dapper and smiling musician on the eve of his short career as a Vocalion recording artist [2]. Neither was published for over a decade after their “discovery” due to fears of litigation from a competing researcher. A third photograph remains unpublished, still owned by Johnson’s family: The man has short nappy hair; he is slight, one foot is raised, and he is up on his toes as though stretching for height. There is a sharp crease in his pants, and a handkerchief protrudes from his breast pocket […] His eyes are deep-set, reserved, and his expression forms a half-smile, there seems to be a gentleness about him, his fingers are extraordinarily long and delicate, his head is tilted to one side. (Guralnick 67) Recently a fourth portrait appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, in Vanity Fair. Vintage guitar seller Steven Schein discovered a sepia photograph labelled “Old Snapshot Blues Guitar B. B. King???” [sic] while browsing Ebay and purchased it for $2,200. Johnson’s son positively identified the image, and a Houston Police Department forensic artist employed face recognition technology to confirm that “all the features are consistent if not identical” (DiGiacomo 2008). The provenance of this photograph remains disputed, however. Johnson’s guitar appears overly distressed for what would at the time be a new model, while his clothes reflect an inappropriate style for the period (Graves). Another contested “Johnson” image found on four seconds of silent film showed a walking bluesman playing outside a small town cinema in Ruleville, Mississippi. It inspired Bob Dylan to wax lyrical in Chronicles: “You can see that really is Robert Johnson, has to be – couldn’t be anyone else. He’s playing with huge, spiderlike hands and they magically move over the strings of his guitar” (287). However it had already been proved that this figure couldn’t be Johnson, because the background movie poster shows a film released three years after the musician’s death. The temptation to wish such items genuine is clearly a difficult one to overcome: “even things that might have been Robert Johnson now leave an afterglow” (Schroeder 154, my italics). Johnson’s recordings, so carefully preserved by Hammond and other researchers, might offer tangible and inviolate primary source material. Yet these also now face a serious challenge: they run too rapidly by a factor of up to 15 per cent (Gibbens; Wilde). Speeding up music allowed early producers to increase a song’s vibrancy and fit longer takes on to their restricted media. By slowing the recording tempo, master discs provided a “mother” print that would cause all subsequent pressings to play unnaturally quickly when reproduced. Robert Johnson worked for half a decade as a walking blues musician without restrictions on the length of his songs before recording with producer Don Law and engineer Vincent Liebler in San Antonio (1936) and Dallas (1937). Longer compositions were reworked for these sessions, re-arranging and edited out verses (Wald, Escaping). It is also conceivable that they were purposefully, or even accidentally, sped up. (The tempo consistency of machines used in early field recordings across the South has often been questioned, as many played too fast or slow (Morris).) Slowed-down versions of Johnson’s songs from contributors such as Angus Blackthorne and Ron Talley now proliferate on YouTube. The debate has fuelled detailed discussion in online blogs, where some contributors to specialist audio technology forums have attempted to decode a faintly detectable background hum using spectrum analysers. If the frequency of the alternating current that powered Law and Liebler’s machine could be established at 50 or 60 Hz it might provide evidence of possible tempo variation. A peak at 51.4 Hz, one contributor argues, suggests “the recordings are 2.8 per cent fast, about half a semitone” (Blischke). Such “augmentation” has yet to be fully explored in academic literature. Graves describes the discussion as “compelling and intriguing” in his endnotes, concluding “there are many pros and cons to the argument and, indeed, many recordings over the years have been speeded up to make them seem livelier” (124). Wald ("Robert Johnson") provides a compelling and detailed counter-thesis on his website, although he does acknowledge inconsistencies in pitch among alternate master takes of some recordings. No-one who actually saw Robert Johnson perform ever called attention to potential discrepancies between the pitch of his natural and recorded voice. David “Honeyboy” Edwards, Robert Lockwood Jr. and Johnny Shines were all interviewed repeatedly by documentarians and researchers, but none ever raised the issue. Conversely Johnson’s former girlfriend Willie Mae Powell was visibly affected by the familiarity in his voice on hearing his recording of the tune Johnson wrote for her, “Love in Vain”, in Chris Hunt’s The Search for Robert Johnson (1991). Clues might also lie in the natural tonality of Johnson’s instrument. Delta bluesmen who shared Johnson’s repertoire and played slide guitar in his style commonly used a tuning of open G (D-G-D-G-B-G). Colloquially known as “Spanish” (Gordon 2002, 38-42) it offers a natural home key of G major for slide guitar. We might therefore expect Johnson’s recordings to revolve around the tonic (G) or its dominant (D) -however almost all of his songs are a full tone higher, in the key of A or its dominant E. (The only exceptions are “They’re Red Hot” and “From Four Till Late” in C, and “Love in Vain” in G.) A pitch increase such as this might be consistent with an increase in the speed of these recordings. Although an alternative explanation might be that Johnson tuned his strings particularly tightly, which would benefit his slide playing but also make fingering notes and chords less comfortable. Yet another is that he used a capo to raise the key of his instrument and was capable of performing difficult lead parts in relatively high fret positions on the neck of an acoustic guitar. This is accepted by Scott Ainslie and Dave Whitehill in their authoritative volume of transcriptions At the Crossroads (11). The photo booth self portrait of Johnson also clearly shows a capo at the second fret—which would indeed raise open G to open A (in concert pitch). The most persuasive reasoning against speed tampering runs parallel to the argument laid out earlier in this piece, previous iterations of the Johnson myth have superimposed their own circumstances and ignored the context and reality of the protagonist’s lived experience. As Wald argues, our assumptions of what we think Johnson ought to sound like have little bearing on what he actually sounded like. It is a compelling point. When Son House, Skip James, Bukka White, and other surviving bluesmen were “rediscovered” during the 1960s urban folk revival of North America and Europe they were old men with deep and resonant voices. Johnson’s falsetto vocalisations do not, therefore, accord with the commonly accepted sound of an authentic blues artist. Yet Johnson was in his mid-twenties in 1936 and 1937; a young man heavily influenced by the success of other high pitched male blues singers of his era. people argue that what is better about the sound is that the slower, lower Johnson sounds more like Son House. Now, House was a major influence on Johnson, but by the time Johnson recorded he was not trying to sound like House—an older player who had been unsuccessful on records—but rather like Leroy Carr, Casey Bill Weldon, Kokomo Arnold, Lonnie Johnson, and Peetie Wheatstraw, who were the big blues recording stars in the mid–1930s, and whose vocal styles he imitated on most of his records. (For example, the ooh-well-well falsetto yodel he often used was imitated from Wheatstraw and Weldon.) These singers tended to have higher, smoother voices than House—exactly the sound that Johnson seems to have been going for, and that the House fans dislike. So their whole argument is based on the fact that they prefer the older Delta sound to the mainstream popular blues sound of the 1930s—or, to put it differently, that their tastes are different from Johnson’s own tastes at the moment he was recording. (Wald, "Robert Johnson") Few media can capture an audible moment entirely accurately, and the idea of engineering a faithful reproduction of an original performance is also only one element of the rationale for any recording. Commercial engineers often aim to represent the emotion of a musical moment, rather than its totality. John and Alan Lomax may have worked as documentarians, preserving sound as faithfully as possible for the benefit of future generations on behalf of the Library of Congress. Law and Liebler, however, were producing exciting and profitable commercial products for a financial gain. Paradoxically, then, whatever the “real” Robert Johnson sounded like (deeper voice, no mesmeric falsetto, not such an extraordinarily adept guitar player, never met the Devil … and so on) the mythical figure who “sold his soul at the crossroads” and shipped millions of albums after his death may, on that basis, be equally as authentic as the original. Schroeder draws on Mikhail Bakhtin to comment on such vacant yet hotly contested spaces around the Johnson myth. For Bakhtin, literary texts are ascribed new meanings by consecutive generations as they absorb and respond to them. Every age re–accentuates in its own way the works of its most immediate past. The historical life of classic works is in fact the uninterrupted process of their social and ideological re–accentuation [of] ever newer aspects of meaning; their semantic content literally continues to grow, to further create out of itself. (421) In this respect Johnson’s legend is a “classic work”, entirely removed from its historical life, a free floating form re-contextualised and reinterpreted by successive generations in order to make sense of their own cultural predilections (Schroeder 57). As Graves observes, “since Robert Johnson’s death there has seemed to be a mathematical equation of sorts at play: the less truth we have, the more myth we get” (113). The threads connecting his real and mythical identity seem so comprehensively intertwined that only the most assiduous scholars are capable of disentanglement. Johnson’s life and work seem destined to remain augmented and contested for as long as people want to play guitar, and others want to listen to them. Notes[1] Actually the dominant theme of Johnson’s songs is not “the supernatural” it is his inveterate womanising. Almost all Johnson’s lyrics employ creative metaphors to depict troubled relationships. Some even include vivid images of domestic abuse. In “Stop Breakin’ Down Blues” a woman threatens him with a gun. In “32–20 Blues” he discusses the most effective calibre of weapon to shoot his partner and “cut her half in two.” In “Me and the Devil Blues” Johnson promises “to beat my woman until I get satisfied”. However in The Lady and Mrs Johnson five-time W. C. Handy award winner Rory Block re-wrote these words to befit her own cultural agenda, inverting the original sentiment as: “I got to love my baby ‘til I get satisfied”.[2] The Gibson L-1 guitar featured in Johnson’s Hooks Bros. portrait briefly became another contested artefact when it appeared in the catalogue of a New York State memorabilia dealership in 2006 with an asking price of $6,000,000. The Australian owner had apparently purchased the instrument forty years earlier under the impression it was bona fide, although photographic comparison technology showed that it couldn’t be genuine and the item was withdrawn. “Had it been real, I would have been able to sell it several times over,” Gary Zimet from MIT Memorabilia told me in an interview for Guitarist Magazine at the time, “a unique item like that will only ever increase in value” (Stewart 2010). References Ainslie, Scott, and Dave Whitehall. Robert Johnson: At the Crossroads – The Authoritative Guitar Transcriptions. Milwaukee: Hal Leonard Publishing, 1992. Bakhtin, Mikhail M. The Dialogic Imagination. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1982. Banks, Russell. “The Devil and Robert Johnson – Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings.” The New Republic 204.17 (1991): 27-30. Banninghof, James. “Some Ramblings on Robert Johnson’s Mind: Critical Analysis and Aesthetic in Delta Blues.” American Music 15/2 (1997): 137-158. Benjamin, Walter. The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. London: Penguin, 2008. Blackthorne, Angus. “Robert Johnson Slowed Down.” YouTube.com 2011. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.youtube.com/user/ANGUSBLACKTHORN?feature=watch›. Blesh, Rudi. Shining Trumpets: A History of Jazz. New York: Knopf, 1946. Blischke, Michael. “Slowing Down Robert Johnson.” The Straight Dope 2008. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=461601›. Block, Rory. The Lady and Mrs Johnson. Rykodisc 10872, 2006. Charters, Samuel. The Country Blues. New York: De Capo Press, 1959. Collins UK. Collins English Dictionary. Glasgow: Harper Collins Publishers, 2010. DiGiacomo, Frank. “A Disputed Robert Johnson Photo Gets the C.S.I. Treatment.” Vanity Fair 2008. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2008/10/a-disputed-robert-johnson-photo-gets-the-csi-treatment›. DiGiacomo, Frank. “Portrait of a Phantom: Searching for Robert Johnson.” Vanity Fair 2008. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2008/11/johnson200811›. Dylan, Bob. Chronicles Vol 1. London: Simon & Schuster, 2005. Evans, David. Tommy Johnson. London: November Books, 1971. Ford, Charles. “Robert Johnson’s Rhythms.” Popular Music 17.1 (1998): 71-93. Freeland, Tom. “Robert Johnson: Some Witnesses to a Short Life.” Living Blues 150 (2000): 43-49. Gibbens, John. “Steady Rollin’ Man: A Revolutionary Critique of Robert Johnson.” Touched 2004. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.touched.co.uk/press/rjnote.html›. Gioia, Ted. Delta Blues: The Life and Times of the Mississippi Masters Who Revolutionised American Music. London: W. W. Norton & Co, 2008. Gioia, Ted. "Robert Johnson: A Century, and Beyond." Robert Johnson: The Centennial Collection. Sony Music 88697859072, 2011. Gordon, Robert. Can’t Be Satisfied: The Life and Times of Muddy Waters. London: Pimlico Books, 2002. Graves, Tom. Crossroads: The Life and Afterlife of Blues Legend Robert Johnson. Spokane: Demers Books, 2008. Guralnick, Peter. Searching for Robert Johnson: The Life and Legend of the "King of the Delta Blues Singers". London: Plume, 1998. Hamilton, Marybeth. In Search of the Blues: Black Voices, White Visions. London: Jonathan Cape, 2007. Hammond, John. From Spirituals to Swing (Dedicated to Bessie Smith). New York: The New Masses, 1938. Johnson, Robert. “Hellbound.” Amazon.co.uk 2011. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hellbound/dp/B0063S8Y4C/ref=sr_1_cc_2?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1376605065&sr=1-2-catcorr&keywords=robert+johnson+hellbound›. ———. “Contracted to the Devil.” Amazon.co.uk 2002. 1 Aug. 2013. ‹http://www.amazon.co.uk/Contracted-The-Devil-Robert-Johnson/dp/B00006F1L4/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1376830351&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=Contracted+to+The+Devil›. ———. King of the Delta Blues Singers. Columbia Records CL1654, 1961. ———. “Me and the Devil Blues.” Amazon.co.uk 2003. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.amazon.co.uk/Me-Devil-Blues-Robert-Johnson/dp/B00008SH7O/ref=sr_1_16?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1376604807&sr=1-16&keywords=robert+johnson›. ———. “The High Price of Soul.” Amazon.co.uk 2007. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.amazon.co.uk/High-Price-Soul-Robert-Johnson/dp/B000LC582C/ref=sr_1_39?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1376604863&sr=1-39&keywords=robert+johnson›. ———. “Up Jumped the Devil.” Amazon.co.uk 2005. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.amazon.co.uk/Up-Jumped-Devil-Robert-Johnson/dp/B000B57SL8/ref=sr_1_2?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1376829917&sr=1-2&keywords=Up+Jumped+The+Devil›. Marcus, Greil. Mystery Train: Images of America in Rock ‘n’ Roll Music. London: Plume, 1997. Morris, Christopher. “Phonograph Blues: Robert Johnson Mastered at Wrong Speed?” Variety 2010. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.varietysoundcheck.com/2010/05/phonograph-blues-robert-johnson-mastered-at-wrong-speed.html›. Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou? DVD. Universal Pictures, 2000. Palmer, Robert. Deep Blues: A Musical and Cultural History from the Mississippi Delta to Chicago’s South Side to the World. London: Penguin Books, 1981. Pearson, Barry Lee, and Bill McCulloch. Robert Johnson: Lost and Found. Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2003. Prial, Dunstan. The Producer: John Hammond and the Soul of American Music. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2006. Rothenbuhler, Eric W. “For–the–Record Aesthetics and Robert Johnson’s Blues Style as a Product of Recorded Culture.” Popular Music 26.1 (2007): 65-81. Rothenbuhler, Eric W. “Myth and Collective Memory in the Case of Robert Johnson.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 24.3 (2007): 189-205. Schroeder, Patricia. Robert Johnson, Mythmaking and Contemporary American Culture (Music in American Life). Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2004. Segalstad, Eric, and Josh Hunter. The 27s: The Greatest Myth of Rock and Roll. Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, 2009. Stewart, Jon. “Rock Climbing: Jon Stewart Concludes His Investigation of the Myths behind Robert Johnson.” Guitarist Magazine 327 (2010): 34. The Search for Robert Johnson. DVD. Sony Pictures, 1991. Talley, Ron. “Robert Johnson, 'Sweet Home Chicago', as It REALLY Sounded...” YouTube.com 2012. 1 Aug. 2013. ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCHod3_yEWQ›. Wald, Elijah. Escaping the Delta: Robert Johnson and the Invention of the Blues. London: HarperCollins, 2005. ———. The Robert Johnson Speed Recording Controversy. Elijah Wald — Writer, Musician 2012. 1 Aug. 2013. ‹http://www.elijahwald.com/johnsonspeed.html›. Wilde, John . “Robert Johnson Revelation Tells Us to Put the Brakes on the Blues: We've Been Listening to the Immortal 'King of the Delta Blues' at the Wrong Speed, But Now We Can Hear Him as He Intended.” The Guardian 2010. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2010/may/27/robert-johnson-blues›. Wolkewitz, M., A. Allignol, N. Graves, and A.G. Barnett. “Is 27 Really a Dangerous Age for Famous Musicians? Retrospective Cohort Study.” British Medical Journal 343 (2011): d7799. 1 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.bmj.com/content/343/bmj.d7799›.

Introduction This paper offers a survey of familiar popular music performers and songwriters who reference coffee in their work. It examines three areas of discourse: the psychoactive effects of caffeine, coffee and courtship rituals, and the politics of coffee consumption. I claim that coffee carries a cultural and musicological significance comparable to that of the chemical stimulants and consumer goods more readily associated with popular music. Songs about coffee may not be as potent as those featuring drugs and alcohol (Primack; Schapiro), or as common as those referencing commodities like clothes and cars (Englis; McCracken), but they do feature across a wide range of genres, some of which enjoy archetypal associations with this beverage. m.o.m.m.y. Needs c.o.f.f.e.e.: The Psychoactive Effect of Coffee The act of performing and listening to popular music involves psychological elements comparable to the overwhelming sensory experience of drug taking: altered perceptions, repetitive grooves, improvisation, self-expression, and psychological empathy—such as that between musician and audience (Curry). Most popular music genres are, as a result, culturally and sociologically identified with the consumption of at least one mind-altering substance (Lyttle; Primack; Schapiro). While the analysis of lyrics referring to this theme has hitherto focused on illegal drugs and alcoholic beverages (Cooper), coffee and its psychoactive ingredient caffeine have been almost entirely overlooked (Summer). The most recent study of drugs in popular music, for example, defined substance use as “tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, cocaine and other stimulants, heroin and other opiates, hallucinogens, inhalants, prescription drugs, over-the-counter drugs, and nonspecific substances” (Primack 172), thereby ignoring a chemical stimulant consumed by 90 per cent of adult Americans every day (Lovett). The wide availability of coffee and the comparatively mild effect of caffeine means that its consumption rarely causes harm. One researcher has described it as a ubiquitous and unobtrusive “generalised public activity […] ‘invisible’ to analysts seeking distinctive social events” (Cooper 92). Coffee may provide only a relatively mild “buzz”—but it is now accepted that caffeine is an addictive substance (Juliano) and, due to its universal legality, coffee is also the world’s most extensively traded and enthusiastically consumed psychoactive consumer product (Juliano 1). The musical genre of jazz has a longstanding relationship with marijuana and narcotics (Curry; Singer; Tolson; Winick). Unsurprisingly, given its Round Midnight connotations, jazz standards also celebrate the restorative impact of coffee. Exemplary compositions include Burke/Webster’s insomniac torch song Black Coffee, which provided hits for Sarah Vaughan (1949), Ella Fitzgerald (1953), and Peggy Lee (1960); and Frank Sinatra’s recordings of Hilliard/Dick’s The Coffee Song (1946, 1960), which satirised the coffee surplus in Brazil at a time when this nation enjoyed a near monopoly on production. Sinatra joked that this ubiquitous drink was that country’s only means of liquid refreshment, in a refrain that has since become a headline writer’s phrasal template: “There’s an Awful Lot of Coffee in Vietnam,” “An Awful Lot of Coffee in the Bin,” and “There’s an Awful Lot of Taxes in Brazil.” Ethnographer Aaron Fox has shown how country music gives expression to the lived social experience of blue-collar and agrarian workers (Real 29). Coffee’s role in energising working class America (Cooper) is featured in such recordings as Dolly Parton’s Nine To Five (1980), which describes her morning routine using a memorable “kitchen/cup of ambition” rhyme, and Don't Forget the Coffee Billy Joe (1973) by Tom T. Hall which laments the hardship of unemployment, hunger, cold, and lack of healthcare. Country music’s “tired truck driver” is the most enduring blue-collar trope celebrating coffee’s analeptic powers. Versions include Truck Drivin' Man by Buck Owens (1964), host of the country TV show Hee Haw and pioneer of the Bakersfield sound, and Driving My Life Away from pop-country crossover star Eddie Rabbitt (1980). Both feature characteristically gendered stereotypes of male truck drivers pushing on through the night with the help of a truck stop waitress who has fuelled them with caffeine. Johnny Cash’s A Cup of Coffee (1966), recorded at the nadir of his addiction to pills and alcohol, has an incoherent improvised lyric on this subject; while Jerry Reed even prescribed amphetamines to keep drivers awake in Caffein [sic], Nicotine, Benzedrine (And Wish Me Luck) (1980). Doye O’Dell’s Diesel Smoke, Dangerous Curves (1952) is the archetypal “truck drivin’ country” song and the most exciting track of its type. It subsequently became a hit for the doyen of the subgenre, Red Simpson (1966). An exhausted driver, having spent the night with a woman whose name he cannot now recall, is fighting fatigue and wrestling his hot-rod low-loader around hairpin mountain curves in an attempt to rendezvous with a pretty truck stop waitress. The song’s palpable energy comes from its frenetic guitar picking and the danger implicit in trailing a heavy load downhill while falling asleep at the wheel. Tommy Faile’s Phantom 309, a hit for Red Sovine (1967) that was later covered by Tom Waits (Big Joe and the Phantom 309, 1975), elevates the “tired truck driver” narrative to gothic literary form. Reflecting country music’s moral code of citizenship and its culture of performative storytelling (Fox, Real 23), it tells of a drenched and exhausted young hitchhiker picked up by Big Joe—the driver of a handsome eighteen-wheeler. On arriving at a truck stop, Joe drops the traveller off, giving him money for a restorative coffee. The diner falls silent as the hitchhiker orders up his “cup of mud”. Big Joe, it transpires, is a phantom trucker. After running off the road to avoid a school bus, his distinctive ghost rig now only reappears to rescue stranded travellers. Punk rock, a genre closely associated with recreational amphetamines (McNeil 76, 87), also features a number of caffeine-as-stimulant songs. Californian punk band, Descendents, identified caffeine as their drug of choice in two 1996 releases, Coffee Mug and Kids on Coffee. These songs describe chugging the drink with much the same relish and energy that others might pull at the neck of a beer bottle, and vividly compare the effects of the drug to the intense rush of speed. The host of “New Music News” (a segment of MTV’s 120 Minutes) references this correlation in 1986 while introducing the band’s video—in which they literally bounce off the walls: “You know, while everybody is cracking down on crack, what about that most respectable of toxic substances or stimulants, the good old cup of coffee? That is the preferred high, actually, of California’s own Descendents—it is also the subject of their brand new video” (“New Music News”). Descendents’s Sessions EP (1997) featured an overflowing cup of coffee on the sleeve, while punk’s caffeine-as-amphetamine trope is also promulgated by Hellbender (Caffeinated 1996), Lagwagon (Mr. Coffee 1997), and Regatta 69 (Addicted to Coffee 2005). Coffee in the Morning and Kisses in the Night: Coffee and Courtship Coffee as romantic metaphor in song corroborates the findings of early researchers who examined courtship rituals in popular music. Donald Horton’s 1957 study found that hit songs codified the socially constructed self-image and limited life expectations of young people during the 1950s by depicting conservative, idealised, and traditional relationship scenarios. He summarised these as initial courtship, honeymoon period, uncertainty, and parting (570-4). Eleven years after this landmark analysis, James Carey replicated Horton’s method. His results revealed that pop lyrics had become more realistic and less bound by convention during the 1960s. They incorporated a wider variety of discourse including the temporariness of romantic commitment, the importance of individual autonomy in relationships, more liberal attitudes, and increasingly unconventional courtship behaviours (725). Socially conservative coffee songs include Coffee in the Morning and Kisses in the Night by The Boswell Sisters (1933) in which the protagonist swears fidelity to her partner on condition that this desire is expressed strictly in the appropriate social context of marriage. It encapsulates the restrictions Horton identified on courtship discourse in popular song prior to the arrival of rock and roll. The Henderson/DeSylva/Brown composition You're the Cream in My Coffee, recorded by Annette Hanshaw (1928) and by Nat King Cole (1946), also celebrates the social ideal of monogamous devotion. The persistence of such idealised traditional themes continued into the 1960s. American pop singer Don Cherry had a hit with Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye (1962) that used coffee as a metaphor for undying and everlasting love. Otis Redding’s version of Butler/Thomas/Walker’s Cigarettes and Coffee (1966)—arguably soul music’s exemplary romantic coffee song—carries a similar message as a couple proclaim their devotion in a late night conversation over coffee. Like much of the Stax catalogue, Cigarettes and Coffee, has a distinctly “down home” feel and timbre. The lovers are simply content with each other; they don’t need “cream” or “sugar.” Horton found 1950s blues and R&B lyrics much more sexually explicit than pop songs (567). Dawson (1994) subsequently characterised black popular music as a distinct public sphere, and Squires (2002) argued that it displayed elements of what she defined as “enclave” and “counterpublic” traits. Lawson (2010) has argued that marginalised and/or subversive blues artists offered a form of countercultural resistance against prevailing social norms. Indeed, several blues and R&B coffee songs disregard established courtship ideals and associate the product with non-normative and even transgressive relationship circumstances—including infidelity, divorce, and domestic violence. Lightnin’ Hopkins’s Coffee Blues (1950) references child neglect and spousal abuse, while the narrative of Muddy Waters’s scorching Iodine in my Coffee (1952) tells of an attempted poisoning by his Waters’s partner. In 40 Cups of Coffee (1953) Ella Mae Morse is waiting for her husband to return home, fuelling her anger and anxiety with caffeine. This song does eventually comply with traditional courtship ideals: when her lover eventually returns home at five in the morning, he is greeted with a relieved kiss. In Keep That Coffee Hot (1955), Scatman Crothers supplies a counterpoint to Morse’s late-night-abandonment narrative, asking his partner to keep his favourite drink warm during his adulterous absence. Brook Benton’s Another Cup of Coffee (1964) expresses acute feelings of regret and loneliness after a failed relationship. More obliquely, in Coffee Blues (1966) Mississippi John Hurt sings affectionately about his favourite brand, a “lovin’ spoonful” of Maxwell House. In this, he bequeathed the moniker of folk-rock band The Lovin’ Spoonful, whose hits included Do You Believe in Magic (1965) and Summer in the City (1966). However, an alternative reading of Hurt’s lyric suggests that this particular phrase is a metaphorical device proclaiming the author’s sexual potency. Hurt’s “lovin’ spoonful” may actually be a portion of his seminal emission. In the 1950s, Horton identified country as particularly “doleful” (570), and coffee provides a common metaphor for failed romance in a genre dominated by “metanarratives of loss and desire” (Fox, Jukebox 54). Claude Gray’s I'll Have Another Cup of Coffee (Then I’ll Go) (1961) tells of a protagonist delivering child support payments according to his divorce lawyer’s instructions. The couple share late night coffee as their children sleep through the conversation. This song was subsequently recorded by seventeen-year-old Bob Marley (One Cup of Coffee, 1962) under the pseudonym Bobby Martell, a decade prior to his breakthrough as an international reggae star. Marley’s youngest son Damian has also performed the track while, interestingly in the context of this discussion, his older sibling Rohan co-founded Marley Coffee, an organic farm in the Jamaican Blue Mountains. Following Carey’s demonstration of mainstream pop’s increasingly realistic depiction of courtship behaviours during the 1960s, songwriters continued to draw on coffee as a metaphor for failed romance. In Carly Simon’s You’re So Vain (1972), she dreams of clouds in her coffee while contemplating an ostentatious ex-lover. Squeeze’s Black Coffee In Bed (1982) uses a coffee stain metaphor to describe the end of what appears to be yet another dead-end relationship for the protagonist. Sarah Harmer’s Coffee Stain (1998) expands on this device by reworking the familiar “lipstick on your collar” trope, while Sexsmith & Kerr’s duet Raindrops in my Coffee (2005) superimposes teardrops in coffee and raindrops on the pavement with compelling effect. Kate Bush’s Coffee Homeground (1978) provides the most extreme narrative of relationship breakdown: the true story of Cora Henrietta Crippin’s poisoning. Researchers who replicated Horton’s and Carey’s methodology in the late 1970s (Bridges; Denisoff) were surprised to find their results dominated by traditional courtship ideals. The new liberal values unearthed by Carey in the late 1960s simply failed to materialise in subsequent decades. In this context, it is interesting to observe how romantic coffee songs in contemporary soul and jazz continue to disavow the post-1960s trend towards realistic social narratives, adopting instead a conspicuously consumerist outlook accompanied by smooth musical timbres. This phenomenon possibly betrays the influence of contemporary coffee advertising. From the 1980s, television commercials have sought to establish coffee as a desirable high end product, enjoyed by bohemian lovers in a conspicuously up-market environment (Werder). All Saints’s Black Coffee (2000) and Lebrado’s Coffee (2006) identify strongly with the culture industry’s image of coffee as a luxurious beverage whose consumption signifies prominent social status. All Saints’s promotional video is set in a opulent location (although its visuals emphasise the lyric’s romantic disharmony), while Natalie Cole’s Coffee Time (2008) might have been itself written as a commercial. Busting Up a Starbucks: The Politics of Coffee Politics and coffee meet most palpably at the coffee shop. This conjunction has a well-documented history beginning with the establishment of coffee houses in Europe and the birth of the public sphere (Habermas; Love; Pincus). The first popular songs to reference coffee shops include Jaybird Coleman’s Coffee Grinder Blues (1930), which boasts of skills that precede the contemporary notion of a barista by four decades; and Let's Have Another Cup of Coffee (1932) from Irving Berlin’s depression-era musical Face The Music, where the protagonists decide to stay in a restaurant drinking coffee and eating pie until the economy improves. Coffee in a Cardboard Cup (1971) from the Broadway musical 70 Girls 70 is an unambiguous condemnation of consumerism, however, it was written, recorded and produced a generation before Starbucks’ aggressive expansion and rapid dominance of the coffee house market during the 1990s. The growth of this company caused significant criticism and protest against what seemed to be a ruthless homogenising force that sought to overwhelm local competition (Holt; Thomson). In response, Starbucks has sought to be defined as a more responsive and interactive brand that encourages “glocalisation” (de Larios; Thompson). Koller, however, has characterised glocalisation as the manipulative fabrication of an “imagined community”—whose heterogeneity is in fact maintained by the aesthetics and purchasing choices of consumers who make distinctive and conscious anti-brand statements (114). Neat Capitalism is a more useful concept here, one that intercedes between corporate ideology and postmodern cultural logic, where such notions as community relations and customer satisfaction are deliberately and perhaps somewhat cynically conflated with the goal of profit maximisation (Rojek). As the world’s largest chain of coffee houses with over 19,400 stores in March 2012 (Loxcel), Starbucks is an exemplar of this phenomenon. Their apparent commitment to environmental stewardship, community relations, and ethical sourcing is outlined in the company’s annual “Global Responsibility Report” (Vimac). It is also demonstrated in their engagement with charitable and environmental non-governmental organisations such as Fairtrade and Co-operative for Assistance and Relief Everywhere (CARE). By emphasising this, Starbucks are able to interpellate (that is, “call forth”, “summon”, or “hail” in Althusserian terms) those consumers who value environmental protection, social justice and ethical business practices (Rojek 117). Bob Dylan and Sheryl Crow provide interesting case studies of the persuasive cultural influence evoked by Neat Capitalism. Dylan’s 1962 song Talkin’ New York satirised his formative experiences as an impoverished performer in Greenwich Village’s coffee houses. In 1995, however, his decision to distribute the Bob Dylan: Live At The Gaslight 1962 CD exclusively via Starbucks generated significant media controversy. Prominent commentators expressed their disapproval (Wilson Harris) and HMV Canada withdrew Dylan’s product from their shelves (Lynskey). Despite this, the success of this and other projects resulted in the launch of Starbucks’s in-house record company, Hear Music, which released entirely new recordings from major artists such as Ray Charles, Paul McCartney, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon and Elvis Costello—although the company has recently announced a restructuring of their involvement in this venture (O’Neil). Sheryl Crow disparaged her former life as a waitress in Coffee Shop (1995), a song recorded for her second album. “Yes, I was a waitress. I was a waitress not so long ago; then I won a Grammy” she affirmed in a YouTube clip of a live performance from the same year. More recently, however, Crow has become an avowed self-proclaimed “Starbucks groupie” (Tickle), releasing an Artist’s Choice (2003) compilation album exclusively via Hear Music and performing at the company’s 2010 Annual Shareholders’s Meeting. Songs voicing more unequivocal dissatisfaction with Starbucks’s particular variant of Neat Capitalism include Busting Up a Starbucks (Mike Doughty, 2005), and Starbucks Takes All My Money (KJ-52, 2008). The most successful of these is undoubtedly Ron Sexsmith’s Jazz at the Bookstore (2006). Sexsmith bemoans the irony of intense original blues artists such as Leadbelly being drowned out by the cacophony of coffee grinding machines while customers queue up to purchase expensive coffees whose names they can’t pronounce. In this, he juxtaposes the progressive patina of corporate culture against the circumstances of African-American labour conditions in the deep South, the shocking incongruity of which eventually cause the old bluesman to turn in his grave. Fredric Jameson may have good reason to lament the depthless a-historical pastiche of postmodern popular culture, but this is no “nostalgia film”: Sexsmith articulates an artfully framed set of subtle, sensitive, and carefully contextualised observations. Songs about coffee also intersect with politics via lyrics that play on the mid-brown colour of the beverage, by employing it as a metaphor for the sociological meta-narratives of acculturation and assimilation. First popularised in Israel Zangwill’s 1905 stage play, The Melting Pot, this term is more commonly associated with Americanisation rather than miscegenation in the United States—a nuanced distinction that British band Blue Mink failed to grasp with their memorable invocation of “coffee-coloured people” in Melting Pot (1969). Re-titled in the US as People Are Together (Mickey Murray, 1970) the song was considered too extreme for mainstream radio airplay (Thompson). Ike and Tina Turner’s Black Coffee (1972) provided a more accomplished articulation of coffee as a signifier of racial identity; first by associating it with the history of slavery and the post-Civil Rights discourse of African-American autonomy, then by celebrating its role as an energising force for African-American workers seeking economic self-determination. Anyone familiar with the re-casting of black popular music in an industry dominated by Caucasian interests and aesthetics (Cashmore; Garofalo) will be unsurprised to find British super-group Humble Pie’s (1973) version of this song more recognisable. Conclusion Coffee-flavoured popular songs celebrate the stimulant effects of caffeine, provide metaphors for courtship rituals, and offer critiques of Neat Capitalism. Harold Love and Guthrie Ramsey have each argued (from different perspectives) that the cultural micro-narratives of small social groups allow us to identify important “ethnographic truths” (Ramsey 22). Aesthetically satisfying and intellectually stimulating coffee songs are found where these micro-narratives intersect with the ethnographic truths of coffee culture. 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The segment of my work containing song lyrics was inspired by a question: Was the Beat Movement an isolated period of thought, tied to one time and location that generated the Beat Generation writers' unique ideas and inquisitive minds? Certainly, the ideas of the Beats were not confined to one city, or even one country: we can trace their travels to San Francisco, New York, Palo Alto, the Baja Peninsuala, Guatemala, Tangiers, London, Paris, Rome, and places in between. The Beats, like other anti-establishment cultural movements, were tied to an historical moment, in that case post-war America, but their ideas resonate backwards and forwards, from political and artistic revolutions in Europe to the counter-culture movement of the 1960s and 1970s. Their work gave rise to debates in our Beat Generation class as to whether or not our contemporary society could give birth to such a movement. As a group, our class concluded that no, our world today is too digitized and too image-focused to facilitate a counter-culture movement. There is too much media and too much emphasis on consumerism to allow for a mainstream Beat movement. I saw it otherwise, for I am a firm believer that modern Beat ideas exist all around us. It's easy to find remnants of the Beats in Indie music, and I created a playlist entitled counter-culture baby, inspired by a lyric in Flipturn’s song “Hippies.” Over the course of a few days, I listened to all 158 songs, a total of 9 hours, 38 minutes of music,and I concluded that they lyrics that resonated in my head afterwards expressed similar sentiments to Beat artists. I ultimately chose to include five sets of lyrics in my beat journal, although the album covers of many others are arranged on the preceding and following pages. Moving from top to bottom of the page, there are excerpts from “Vanilla” by Flipturn, “Malibu 1992” by COIN, “Astrovan” by Mt. Joy, “Holy Moly, Rock n’ Rolly, Guacamole” by Lazy Ghost, and “Chicago” by Flipturn. Though many songs in the playlist demonstrated counter-culture and anti-establishment messages, and I thought it was important to choose five songs that resonated with Beat poems. The singers rage against modern America, they expression the fear of a mundane lifestyle, the use of religious figures in an unconventional, pro-freedom manner, and even the creation of new words. Whether these artists know the works of Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs or not, they employ similar techniques and express common ideas throughout their art. As for the segment of cut-ups, one of the goals of the creation of “Être Beat” was to live my life as though I myself was a Beat. I looked at the stars, I debated philosophy late at night, I wrote a manifesto. I sought perspective-altering experiences by going skydiving, learning the bass guitar, and by attending jazz clubs. And in response, I created these works by consciously employing Beat techniques. For instance, I drew inspiration from Gysin and Burroughs in creating a “cut-up” of Verlaine’s poems. I chose Verlaine because his work was often read and discussed in the Beat Hotel. Thus, in as random of a manner as possible, I cut up some of his poems, including but not limited to Chanson à manger, L’angoisse, and Dans les limbes. The result was astounding for me. With scissors and glue, I was able to create ideas I wouldn’t have been able to create with only a pen and paper. Of course, the words are Verlaine’s -- but the manner in which they are arranged give them a completely new, abstract, and symbolic meaning.